


Life Goes On

by FreakshowImprov, thesilvergoddess



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Dissociation, F/F, Max is so tired, Minor Character Death, PTSD, let her rest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5146394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakshowImprov/pseuds/FreakshowImprov, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilvergoddess/pseuds/thesilvergoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after escaping from the Dark Room and letting the storm ravage Arcadia Bay, Max is still haunted by the things she's done and the things she's seen.  You don't leave something like that behind without a fight, and yet, life goes on; with or without her.  </p>
<p>Updates every Wednesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Underexposure

**Author's Note:**

> Life Goes On is co-written by a couple who spent way too much time talking about poor Max and her friends, and who decided to share those thoughts with the internet. This isn't going to be a bad ending, but it isn't going to gloss over the implications of what Max went through, either.
> 
> Illustrations by thesilvergoddess. Words are by both of us.

_Arcadia Bay was burning, and it was all Max’s fault.  
_

_She’d thought she could save everyone. She’d thought that she could be a hero. All she had to do was sacrifice her best friend in the whole world to a cold and meaningless death, and the storm would vanish. Easy, right? Chloe’s lips were cold against hers, their bodies shivering together in the freezing rain. She had to do this. One last kiss before everything went back to the way it was meant to be. Chloe pulled back first, eyes filling with tears, turning away. Max reached for her, but it was a mercy. She couldn’t look this Chloe in the eye. Not knowing what she was about to do. A branch whipped by, cutting her cheek open as it passed. She didn’t care.  
_

_Max stared into the photo, and a moment later she watched Chloe die. Again. She saw the light leave her eyes, and told herself that it was what had to be done, that one life, no matter how precious, couldn’t balance out the lives of an entire town. She was doing the right thing. Everything blurred, the sickening whirl that accompanied a jump in time eating at her, screaming in her ears. It was if time itself were laughing at her arrogance, she barely had time to think, before she was in the present.  
_

_She fell to her knees, blood running freely from her nose. Dead. Chloe Price was dead, and God forgive her for what she’d been forced to do. The photograph left her hand. Out of sight, out of mind. Sound faded back in, and she was overwhelmed with a familiar roar. Wind blasted her face, soaking her through her jacket, cold drops of rain whipping like jackknives into her eyes. She looked up, and there it was. The tornado, raging in the bay, creeping closer and closer to the town she’d grown up in.  
_

_“I did what you wanted!” She screamed into the storm, words torn away by the cruel and uncaring wind. “I let her die! That was supposed to **fix this** , you son of a bitch!” Who was she screaming at? It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She’d killed Chloe on a hope, a theory, little more than a whim. Somewhere behind her, a tree crashed, torn asunder by the force of her mistake.  
_

_“Bring her back! I changed my mind! I don’t want this!” She sobbed, choking on her words. She’d thought she’d felt despair under Jefferson’s cold, clinical hands. Now she knew better. That had been nothing. She heaved, empty stomach clenching in horror, in disgust, in pure, agonizing pain.  
_

_The tornado made landfall. One of the beached whales, seemingly immovable in its’ weight and solidity, lifted into the air as if it were nothing more than a plastic bag in the breeze. It came apart in the air, painting the tornado red as it did. It hadn’t been built for the rigors of flight. Who knew that anything could have so much blood? A boat whipped past the shattered lighthouse, carried on the wings of the storm. She could see it’s path. The Two Whales. She watched as if trapped in a world of slow motion as the broken ship slammed into the diner, embedding itself in the roof with a crash she thought she could hear even all these miles away. “Max?” The building exploded, shooting up jets of flame and debris that were extinguished nearly as quickly as they’d appeared. Joyce. Frank. Warren. Her scream mingled with the concussion of the blast, the wind howling around her. So much death. She really had done nothing but leave a trail of death and destruction in her wake. “Max!” She shook madly, as if a pair of hands were holding her by the shoulders and-_   


“Max, wake up!”  


Her eyes flew open, and she pulled herself away, desperately fighting to get away from the touch. She was back in the dark room! Jefferson was-  


“Max, Max, Max, it’s me…” A soft voice. Familiar. “It’s me, you’re safe.” Chloe? But she was… “You’re safe, it’s okay…”  


With a cry, Max flung herself into Chloe’s arms, tears flowing freely down her face. “Chloe, I thought… I dreamed…” Her fingers dug into the other girl’s back. She was just lucid enough to be aware that it was probably painful, but the rest of her just didn’t care. She needed to be close. She needed to _feel_ her presence.  


“Take a breath, Max.” Fingers in her hair. Stroking. Gentle. Reassuring. Not like… No. “Breathe. It’s okay. You’re safe.” Max sucked in a shaky breath and opened her mouth to speak, before dissolving into another sob. “I’m right here…” She buried her face into Chloe’s chest, staining her shirt dark with tears.  


It wasn’t Max’s safety she wanted to be reassured of. Chloe. She needed to know Chloe was okay. She remembered that night; she remembered the choice she’d made. She’d ripped that photograph in two. She’d made a stand against destiny. But God, it felt so real… The destruction of the Two Whales was burned into her mind. Every time she closed her eyes she could see Chloe’s blank face on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, staring at her accusingly. “I’m sorry Chloe…” She choked out, shaking in the taller girl’s arms. “I wasn’t strong enough… I didn’t mean it…”  


Chloe spoke quietly, calmly, levelly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m okay. You’re my best friend, you nerd.” This wasn’t the first time in the last two months that Max had screamed in the night, not the first time she’d woken without knowing where she was or what was real. Somewhere inside her, she knew that she was hysterical, that she had had this breakdown before, but that knowledge didn’t help. She felt like a child, lost and alone and guilty.  


Time passed. Max wasn’t sure how long. Fifteen minutes? An hour? A lifetime? Chloe had never stopped her soothing, never ending stream of reassurances, one arm around her, the other in her hair. Her breathing was almost back to normal, but every now and then a shiver would wrack her body, a jolt of pain striking her heart and her head. “You back in the world of the living, Max?” Chloe tried very hard to act like these episodes didn’t frighten her, but underneath the calm and concern, Max could hear a vein of genuine worry in her voice that ran deep. Max pretended she couldn’t hear it, for the other girl’s pride if nothing else.  


She took a shaky breath before speaking in a quiet whisper. “I’m… Yeah. I’m okay. I dreamed…” She pulled her face back, wiping her tears from her cheeks with the back of one hand. She looked up at Chloe with red-rimmed eyes, and her lip trembled.

“I dreamed I let you… d-die. I went back and w-watched it happen but it didn’t change a th-thing.”  


“It was just a bad dream, dude. I’m right here. See?” Chloe leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on Max’s lips. She pulled back and smiled down at her, brushing a strand of her wild bed head from her face. Max could see her trying to hide how troubled she really was. “If I was dead, would I be able do that? Or… This?” She tweaked Max’s nose.  


Max laughed, despite herself, and scooted until she was sitting up, facing Chloe. “No. You couldn’t. But if anyone could find a way to be annoying from beyond the grave, it would be you.” She tried to joke about it because it hurt. She had actually watched Chloe die too many times for it to be funny anymore.  


Her reaction seemed to satisfy Chloe, though, and she pressed her forehead against Max’s, closing her eyes. “Boo, motherfucker.”  


Max closed her eyes as well, just enjoying the feel of her girlfriend’s cool skin against hers, the simple reality of her presence. “I love you, Chloe.”  


"I love you, Max," she replied quietly. It was still something of a novelty to both of them, those declarations of love. They still felt so surreal, that someone as perfect as her Chloe could think the world of her. Surreal, and yet, somehow natural as well. Like a pleasant inevitability.  


She'd fought so hard for this. She'd fought harder than she'd ever imagined that she could fight for something. She'd been through Hell and back, forged like iron through the fires tribulation to become something... else. Chloe said she was steel. Max wasn't so sure. She felt so fractured and broken, unable to stop reliving the past. Nightmares she wouldn't have wished on her worst enemy. Flashbacks and panic attacks and dissociation. And yet...  


Chloe's cool forehead pressed against hers, her shaking fingers intertwined with Chloe's more steady grasp between their chests. And yet. She was still here. That was something she needed to remember. She was still here, and she had found the love of her life where she'd least expected it. That was worth it. Sometimes she wasn't sure that _she_ , Max Caulfield, was worth it. Surely someone was more deserving than her. But whenever she started down that particular rabbit hole, Chloe would... be there. She'd lean over and crack a joke, say something dumb they used to when they were kids. Even something as simple as a smile. And Max would see the world reflected in her eyes, something bright and beautiful and... hopeful. If she could ever capture a photograph with that intensity of emotion and surety, that pure _humanity_ , she would be the greatest photographer anyone had ever known.  


Her thoughts were rambling, and she knew it. She let them go, though. They were helping to ground her, to draw her consciousness back fully to reality. She was Max Caulfield, she was whole and unbroken, and Chloe's beautiful eyes were centimeters from hers, and all was right with the world.  


Chloe stayed silent. This wasn't the first time Max had done something like this, and it would likely be far from the last, and she'd quickly learned that sometimes the best way to help her suffering lover was to simply provide something solid to hold onto, while she battled her inner demons herself.  


Finally, Max drew one more shaky breath and pulled her face away, glancing aside at the old digital clock by the bed. One of the lights in the the third digit was dead, but the time was easy enough to read. 4:27. How long had they been sitting like this?

She rubbed at her face, wiping the last of the tears from her puffy red eyes. "Sorry, I kinda... lost it for a minute there." She smiled feebly, feeling a pang at the obvious concern in Chloe's eyes. "It's okay if you want to slap me or something. Get some payback for waking you up and slobbering all over you."  


Instead of responding to the halfhearted joke with humor, the way she'd expected, Chloe furrowed her brow and released Max's hands, just to put her own firmly on Max's shoulders. "Hey," she said, her tone serious. "Don't give me that. You're fucking Super-Max, and I'm not gonna forget that just because you have a bad dream now and then."  


The words weren't always the same but it was a conversation they'd probably had half a dozen times by now. Chloe was probably fed up with her self-pitying bullshit. Right. Super-Max. "It's not just bad dreams, Chloe, it's-"  


She found herself cut off again by a rough kiss, just Chloe's lips pressed against hers to shut her up. It was nice, even if it did make it a little harder to think about arguing. Chloe caressed Max's cheek, then pulled back. "No."  


"But-"  


" _No_ , Max." Chloe shook her head. "I'm right here for you. You deserve that much. No matter _what_. You protected me, right? Now I get to return the favor, man. That's all."  


Max didn't know what to say. Instead, she just crushed the other girl to her in a tight hug, letting the feel of Chloe, the scent of her, overwhelm her.  


She wasn't going to start crying again. She _wasn't_.  


Chloe seemed startled by the sudden affection, but returned the embrace with the hint of a sad smile on her face. "I'll beat up the sads, Max. Just point the way."  


Max sniffled, and it almost sounded like a laugh. "You can't beat up an emotion, tough guy." Though she would like to see Chloe physically wrestle the physical manifestation of depression into submission.  


Chloe laughed, and Max found herself laughing too.  


The night was dark and scary and full of reminders of the bloody past, but Chloe was here with her. Chloe was alive and vibrant and... Chloe. That was enough.  


That was enough.


	2. Storm Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to AO3 user cinnamonsnaps for proofing our garbage. Art is, again, by thesilvergoddess. Follow her on tumblr!
> 
> We were blown away by the positive reaction to the first chapter. Hopefully the rest will be just as satisfying! 
> 
> We're not gonna stop anytime soon. c:

Max couldn’t sleep after that. She was too afraid that the images and the lifetimes would come rushing to throw her back into the storm. Chloe was out like a light, though, so Max slipped out of bed as quietly as possible and crept down the stairs.

This had become Max’s new normal. Nightmares. Wake up. Go downstairs. This particular morning was, at least, comforting.

The kitchen light emitted a soft glow from around the corner and the soft _squick squick_ of wheels met her ears. She rounded the corner, rubbing her sleepy eyes. The microwaved blinked a proud 5:30 A.M., and the fridge light illuminated Joyce wheeling around the kitchen as quietly as she could. Max smiled sadly and lightly patted her own face. Quick measure to test consciousness. Awake. Right.

“Morning, Joyce.”

The fridge door closed after a moment and Joyce’s tired face met Max’s with a genuine smile. “Good morning, Max.” She paused for a comfortable second. “It seems you wake up earlier and earlier.”

Max leaned against the doorway sheepishly and started to speak, but Joyce interrupted before she could say anything.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I have a feeling that you might need someone to just be around and not have to answer questions. I get questions every day about my legs even though I’ve already told the whole story.”

Joyce had been in the Two Whales when most of it was destroyed. The little diner had become something of a refuge from the storm, though it might not have been the sturdiest building on the block.  When a boat, thrown by the wind, had crashed through the wall of the diner, Joyce had moved faster than anyone would have believed possible.  She'd threw Max's classmate and friend Warren to the side, out of the way of the worst danger, and shielded a man and his dog with her body. The debris had pinned and crushed Joyce’s legs, confining her to a wheelchair for an indefinite amount of time, and though Warren had hardly escaped unscathed himself, everyone agreed that her quick thinking had saved lives. The doctors said that eventually she would be able to walk with a cane, if she was lucky, but until then, she had to manage in a wheelchair.

“At least you’ll be Buff Mom before this is all over.”

Joyce rolled her eyes but smiled. “Well, right now I’m just Joyce.” Her voice grew slightly more serious. “Max, without your optimism, I don’t know where I would be. Chloe doesn’t know what to say, but I know she’s trying. I think you’ve been a great influence on us all.” She winked. “Just like I said you would be.”

Max idly pushed a strand of hair from her blushing face and didn’t say anything back. Her stomach felt tight and so did her throat. Emotions were weird.

“Enough of that mess, I suppose. Do you feel like helping me with breakfast or do you just want to have some time to yourself? I don’t mind either way.”

That tightness in her throat eased slightly. Her stomach clenched at the thought of food, but she nodded. “I would be honored to help.”

The two were quiet for a time before Joyce softly asked Max about grabbing some bacon off a too-high shelf in the fridge, and she helped without a word. Joyce began chopping chives to put in the omelettes, while Max's hand beat the batter. The batter. The swirling batter. Viscous. Drowning. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Her vision grew spotty and dark on the edges. Her breath hitched. Her mind became cloudy.  Her head.  Was her nose bleeding?  Rewind.  It hurt.  Rewind.  Rewind.  She had to stop-

A sharp cry from Joyce forced her back into reality. A reality where cold sweat beaded on her skin. The large Tupperware bowl she had been mixing the batter in lay overturned on the floor. The wooden spoon dug splinters into her hand. Joyce had wheeled back slightly, one wheel dragging the batter backward in a stripe, and her face looked more than a little concerned.

“I-” Max started. Her throat was too dry for words.

“Max, honey, this is the second bowl of pancake batter you’ve dropped, and you’re white as a sheet. I can’t help you clean it up, but… You obviously have something that’s eating at you.” Her eyebrows scrunched up and her mouth turned down. “What’s wrong?”

“I just... “ Max paused for a long second. Batter wasn’t threatening. It wasn’t the storm. It wasn’t that endless coil of rewinding, of unspooling time that wrapped around her throat in her sleep. It was just batter. That was all. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Not since the storm. Sometimes, I just... fall asleep on my feet.”

She wished her voice were more confident. She could tell Joyce bought her explanation about as much as she bought every other lie Max and Chloe fed her, which is to say she didn’t. Thankfully, it seemed Joyce had enough sense to know that sometimes, things were better left unsaid.

“Maybe we could turn on the tv for some background noise.” The words were intended as a question but came out as a statement of fact instead. Max looked up somewhat apologetically as she began cleaning up the pancake mess. She heard the quiet squeak of Joyce’s wheelchair and a click. Muttering from the television filled the silence and gave comforting white noise to settle Max’s nerves. That was, until the six o'clock news came on.

Max's blood ran cold at the first sentences out of the pleasantly bland newscaster’s mouth, and she froze.

“Welcome to channel four, eyewitness news," said the woman of indeterminate age, a plastic smile beaming into the camera.  "Bringing you the stories _you_ care about.  We'll have tips for the storm coming up in just a few minutes, but first, local former Blackwell teacher and photographer Mark Jefferson’s trial opens with a _bang_.  Already, the case has proven more fascinating by the day, as more evidence and testimony continues to pour in. We go now to a video recapping the proceedings, for those of you who may need it, and we warn you that the following contains content that could be disturbing for some-"

Sweat sprang from her forehead as her too-tight stomach clenched further. Already on her hands and knees, she wretched, a sticky, batter covered towel in her left hand. _You could be my masterpiece._ No. He was far away and couldn’t hurt anyone right now. Maybe never again. God, she hoped never again. Her face felt too hot for the cold sweat pouring from her forehead. Hot, stinging tears fell. There was something there she dimly remembered but couldn’t fully grasp. It just ripped her apart inside instead.

“Max!” Joyce’s distressed voice called for what could only be the billionth time. She started yelling for Chloe louder than Max had ever heard her yell. And she’d heard Joyce raise her voice more than once. Her vision started to focus again and her mind felt a little clearer.

The cold tile pressed against her cheek, cooling her feverish skin. She weakly pushed herself up. “It’s okay, Joyce. I’m okay. I think I’m sick.”

More excuses. Always with the excuses. **_WHY DIDN’T YOU TAKE THE SHOT._** No. She sat up, the towel still in her hand, which was now covered in sticky crud. “Joyce, it’s okay.” Her voice sounded sure even to her own ears, but Joyce still didn’t buy it. To be fair, how could she?  She'd practically just collapsed into a pool of her own vomit, right in front of her.

“Maxine, you are obviously not okay. Get the rest of this cleaned up and go get a shower. You look worse than you did when you came downstairs. And please.” She paused, calculating her words before speaking. It looked like she had plenty of practice dancing around things with Chloe, and it almost hurt Max’s heart that Joyce would feel the need to be so careful with her. Joyce’s face showed saddened resignation. “Wake Chloe. I have to leave soon if I want to catch the bus, and I don’t want to leave you to fend for yourself if you’re this sick.”

A stiff wind howled outside, rattling the plastic over the busted out windows. Most of the funds had gone into Joyce's medical expenses instead of the storm shattered window panes. Max could almost hear the howls of the animals in the screaming wind from that day.

At a loss for words, Max just nodded and went about cleaning up the rest of the mess. Joyce wheeled by and lightly rubbed Max’s upper back in a very maternal gesture. She’d turned off the TV.

“Come by the diner if you want.  I’ll make you a proper breakfast there.  Besides, it’s one of the only things that’s been built back most of the way. They even widened the kitchen so I could get around.” She offered a smile, concern still touching her eyes.  Max had heard all about the new Two Whales, but frankly, she appreciated the effort Joyce was making.

“I would never miss out on your waffles, Joyce.” Max offered her own wry smile in return, sopping up the final bit of the mess.

Joyce nodded in satisfaction and managed to get out the door and down the newly added, improvised wheelchair ramp. Max watched her go and looked back down at her left hand, which still held the would be delicious breakfast wrapped in a cotton ruination. _Great going, Max. Bad dreams and two episodes. All before seven. This has to be a new record_.

She sat there a second, looking around and identifying everything by saying the names out loud.

“Santa jar. Refrigerator. Counter. Garland. Mistletoe.” She felt the corners of her mouth twitch up. “Cabinets. Chairs. Tile.” The list went on for another minute. Sometimes it helped to ground her. When she was sure that she wouldn’t slip back into some state of unreality, she scurried and cleaned up the rest of the failed breakfast mess. Maybe she could fix dinner tonight - to make up for the worry she caused.

She hated making people worry. It had gotten to the point where she didn’t want to talk to anyone or express anything for fear that something would slip. For fear that she would slip. Reality seemed so fragile.

She tossed the towel out, wearily climbed the stairs, and flopped onto the bed, waking Chloe almost the instant her ass hit the mattress.

“What?” Sleep riddled and slurred. Cute.

“Joyce got to see me do that thing where I leave the real world and go off to brain-hell.” Max sighed and looked down at her frizzy haired angel. The circles under her eyes were darker than usual. “It was embarrassing, but I guess I needed to know what happened.” She paused and frowned slightly. “How did you sleep through Joyce’s yelling, anyway?”

Chloe stayed quiet for a minute. “Is it… you know. _Him?_ ” She didn’t need to say names.

Max nodded. Chloe didn’t answer the second prompt. Max figured that Chloe, of all people, was used to a substantial amount of yelling in the house.

“Jesus, Max, I’m so sorry. You need a fucking break.” She rubbed at her eyes and yawned while stretching.  There was something particularly feline about the movement. It made Max smile. A genuine smile.

“I ruined breakfast this morning, so Joyce told us to go to the Whales for food.” Guilt washed over her again. “And, uh, I need a favor from my private investigator in arms.”

Chloe, who had closed her eyes with her arms over her head, opened one eye and smirked. “Private investigator?”

Max blushed and felt her face flush - but this time, not from feeling sick. “Y-yeah. I need you to look into Jefferson’s trial.”

Chloe features dropped all amusement. “Consider it done. Go get a shower. You look like hell. I’ll have everything there is to know when you get out.”

Max nodded, gathered some clothes from the back of the desk chair and closet. Chloe had donated all of Rachel’s clothes from her house after the storm to help those who lost everything, so Max moved her own wardrobe into the house, considering that  she lived there now and commuted to Blackwell.  

She ambled to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Puffy red spots under her eyes. Reddened nose. Streaks down her face where the tears had been. Wowser, indeed. She tore her eyes away from her reflected image and looked down.

“Hello, Mr. Toothbrush. Say hello to morning breath.”

She scrubbed her body as vigorously as she scrubbed her teeth, using water that was probably too hot. Her skin itched from the heat and her stuffy face felt a little lighter from the steam. The exhaustion in her eyes remained, but the rest of her body felt a little less… defiled. A little more her own.  She shut off the water and dressed quickly, wet skin sticking to clothes in weird places and making it nearly impossible to comfortably fit in her jeans on the first try. She walked back to Chloe’s - hers _and_ Chloe’s (their? Chloe and _hers ?_ ) - room while still toweling off her hair.

“So what do you have for me?” She didn’t even look up. If she needed answers, Chloe would get them just like Max would for Chloe.

“First. Who’s awesome?”

“Uh. Me.” Max smiled which came more naturally to her after the shower than it had before.

“Okay, fair. You _are_ Super Max, but this time, I was talking about me. Brace yourself. Are you ready?” Such an offhand question but it was loaded with as much concern as Chloe ever explicitly showed.

Max nodded, sitting in the desk chair and steeling her emotions as well as her body. She felt the ghost of clinical fingers touch her face. She shuddered unpleasantly, the cold numbness returning to her extremities. She needed to know.

“I’ll make this as painless as possible.” Chloe gingerly touched Max’s knee. They were never far apart from each other. They moved fluidly and were almost always touching somewhere. A touch on the shoulder. Arms brushing together. Fingers intertwined.

“Okay. Here goes.”  Chloe took a breath and hesitated. “Jefferson is looking at more than one life sentence and maybe the death penalty, and it’s come to light that he had a hand in Kate’s uh… yeah. Anyway, everything points at Jefferson. The Prescotts are having a hell of a time defending themselves with Nathan being a murdered murderer. Serves the fucker right.” She paused, composing herself again. “The Prescotts are pushing for a more severe punishment for Jefferson, claiming that they brainwashed Nathan blah, blah, blah. They’re the ones pushing for the death penalty. He’s getting a piece of the blame that would rest solely on Nathan for Rachel’s murder. Nathan is considered an accomplice to Jefferson, and I swear to god if you could sentence a dead man, they would have. Jefferson is being charged with so much shit like... murder, sexual assault, and a bunch of other unsavory crap.”

Max laughed an ugly snort of a laugh. It still wasn’t enough for her. If she could have seen David shoot him a thousand times, she would have. If she could watch him bleed over and over, she would. She felt that ghost of a painfully tight grip on her shoulders and the dead man's needle pinch on her neck.

“You know, when I was in the room. The Dark Room. I told Jefferson to eat shit and die.”

Chloe smiled and rubbed Max’s thigh comfortingly, seeing the darkness in Max’s eyes. “You, Max, are a badass. Now, let’s go get breakfast and make out.  Some tongue'll do you good.”

 

 


	3. To What We Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to cinnamonsnaps for proofreading this!
> 
> There was a problem with the illustration this chapter. We lost it. Instead, thesilvergoddess has a tumblr with the same URL where she occasionally posts art and ficlets. You should give it a look!

By the time they were all cleaned up and ready to leave the house, Max was feeling much more herself.

Nights were the worst.  When she was asleep, her guard was down, and her subconscious had free reign to subject her to its unimaginable horrors, to throw her fears and doubts in her face.  

Mornings were bad as well, if not quite as intense.  She was usually still shaken from nightmares, and generally hadn't managed to entirely shake off the grogginess and unreality that accompanied waking.

If she could make it to the light of day, things tended to improve.  It was easier to think when she didn't feel suffocated by darkness.

The storm had been so dark.

But the sun had risen, and Chloe was holding her hand, and her heart was beating fast from the electricity of her kisses.  She could breathe.

"So what now, hippie?"  Chloe asked as she fixed her beanie onto her head, letting go of Max's hand to bounce over the the bathroom, where she took a moment to look in the mirror and pluck at a strand of blue hair with her fingers.  

Max watched her, leaning on the wall with a fond smile on her face.  "Joyce invited us to breakfast at the Two Whales, after I flipped out and made a mess in front of her. It would probably make her happy if we showed up."  

She sighed.  It wasn't the first time Joyce had seen her like that, but it didn't get any less embarrassing through repetition.  That was almost the worst part.  She wanted Joyce to _respect_ her, not to think of her as a kid who needed babysitting and taking care of.

That wasn't fair.  Joyce _did_ respect her.  Saw her as a kind of surrogate child, sure, but she had done too much for Max for her to sit here doubting her motivations.  

"Cool with me.  Warren gonna be there?"

Max shrugged, then remembered that Chloe couldn't actually see her where she was standing.  "Dunno.  I know he's been helping out there a lot lately, but I don't know if he's there now."

Chloe glanced over, seemingly giving up on her hair and filling the sink with water.  "You wanna text him and see?"

Max shook her head.  "If he's there, we'll see him.  If he's not, he's probably asleep, and the poor guy has been sleeping so bad ever since the..." Her breath caught in her chest.  "The storm.  A text might wake him up."  

"How is he?” Chloe asked, her voice a little more somber.  “I only see him the one time a week, and it's hard to get a read on him when he's in full storyteller mode."

Not an easy question to answer.  "Honestly?  I don't know.  He seems okay most of the time, making dumb jokes about it and stuff.  But sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking, he gets this look in his eyes like he hasn't slept in months, and I mean, can you blame him?"  Max shuddered, as Chloe splashed some water on her face.  "Brooke says that-  I dunno.  I probably shouldn't go gossiping.  I don't want to ruin the poor kid's pride, you know?"

"I wouldn't wish that on anyone," Chloe said as she towelled off. "Well, okay.  Maybe one or two people. But Warren's a good guy.  Kind of a doof, you know, but a good guy."  

"He's lucky he's got Brooke.  She takes good care of him, I think."  He'd spent a long time obviously pining over Max, but he'd stepped aside with good grace when he'd realized where Max's true affections lay. Brooke the tech junkie had been waiting in the wings, and after the storm, she'd spent more time than anyone with him in the hospital.  

They made a good couple, Max thought.  Brooke was reserved and quiet most of the time, and Warren lacked just enough shame to make sure she got out and about more than she had been previously.  They'd had to miss the infamous drive-in movie night, unfortunately, but they'd more than made up the time lost.

Not everything that had come from the storm was bad.  Most of it was - all the injuries and deaths and damage which had been caused in those few hours - but it was important to remember that it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

It was all Max’s fault, after all.

 _No_.  She wasn’t going to go down that road.  She was going to go out with Chloe and have fun.  Max wasn’t going to ruin it with her stupid issues.

She must have gotten that look in her eye again, because Chloe came padding up to her, her face concerned.  Solemnly, she put her hands on Max’s shoulders, leaned in close, and whispered, _“Those were my fucking beans.”_

Max immediately dissolved into giggles.  The one time she’d actually cut loose with her power and had a little fun in the name of evil had become a minor legend between the two of them, and it never failed to cheer her up when she found herself on the downward spiral.

Chloe laughed as well, and she looked a bit relieved, as well as she tried to hide it.  She planted a loud, smacky kiss on Max’s lips, then hopped back.  Her hands found Max’s, and she tugged lightly.  “Come on, girl.  You’re hungry, and you’re getting loopy."

Max’s laughter finally trailed off into a smile.  “Yeah.  We all knows what happens when the tummy monster doesn’t get his nosh on.”

Chloe snorted.  “You are _such_ a dork.  Come on."

Max hesitated a little as she walked, dragging her feet.  "Do you think we can go see Kate after?"

"Hm?  Sure, we can bring her some food.  She'd like th-"  Chloe stopped.  "Wait, you don't mean just to chat, do you?"

Max shrugged and looked away.  "I don't know.  Is it the right thing to do?"

Chloe glanced back and smiled.  "It's up to you, Max.  But you seemed pretty sure about it the other night."  She shrugged as well, squeezing Max's hand a little tighter.  "We talked about this. I'll support you either way.  It's your call."

"Yeah... yeah.  Okay."  Max took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.  "Right."

 

The drive was mostly uneventful.  Chloe’s beat up old truck had taken some serious damage during the storm, and it had taken a good bit of work to help it get back up and running.  David had helped, to Chloe’s wary gratitude, and Max wasn’t sure the old girl would have ever driven another mile if he hadn’t pitched in.  

Still, the thing rattled.  It clearly wasn’t something too important, considering that it had continued to drive without issue for over a month, but it was irritating.  Max had mostly gotten used to it.  Chloe mostly seemed offended that the universe had dared to hurt her baby.

Driving down Main Street was always a bit of a sobering experience.  The debris and bodies had long since been cleared away, but everywhere you looked were signs of barely healed destruction.  Buildings lacked roofs, lacked windows.  There were potholes in the road, great gouges where heavy objects had torn through the asphalt like tissue paper.  Chloe had to reduce her speed to keep from getting whiplash; repairing the road was just one of the many, many items on the reconstruction crew’s to-do list.  

Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  She could still smell the smoke, feel the heat of the flames licking her face.  The sounds of screaming mingling with the howling wind, dead bodies slumped against overturned cars and shattered windows.  She opened her eyes.  Blue sky.  A light breeze.  Cars rattling down the battered old road.

There.  That was where Evan had died, struck by a piece of sheet metal as he tried to capture the tornado.  Max hadn’t been there to save him.  They said the impact had probably killed him quickly, that he hadn’t had time to feel much pain.  That loss hurt.  

That building, the one still hollowed out and covered in scorch marks, missing it’s entire second floor.  That was where Alyssa had died, trapped under rubble and suffocated by smoke.  Max hadn’t been there to save her, either.  Had she suffered?  Probably.  A bad death.  Her breathing quickened.

Those two deaths hurt even more than all the rest.  She’d _saved them_.  She’d pulled Evan out of the way to safety, and she’d guided Alyssa down from where she’d been trapped.  They’d been safe, they’d been alive, and she’d rewound.  Sure, they might have died as the tornado made landfall, but then, they might not have.  She would never know.  And they were dead because of her.

Dead like so, so many others.  Nearly a hundred dead, because of what she had done to causality.   _One hundred-twelve missing_ , her mind intoned solemnly.   _Five hundred thirty two wounded.  Ninety seven confirmed dead._  The names she knew started rattling off in her head.   _Alyssa Anderson, suffocated - dead.  Evan Harris, blunt force trauma - dead. Dana Ward, impaled - dead.  Courtney Wagner, drowned - dead.  Luke Parker, trampled - dead. Stella Hill, crushed and suffocated - dead. Joyce Price, disabled for life.  Warren Graham-_

Max jumped and nearly screamed as Chloe touched her hand.  “Max?”  They were parked, it seemed.

She took a shaky breath, forcing her breathing under control, closing her eyes again.  “Sorry.  Sorry, I’m here.  I just…”  She cleared her throat, blinking her eyes to try to dispel the tears that wanted to come.  “Sorry.  Memories.  Bad memories here.”

Chloe leaned over and gently kissed Max’s cheek, giving her hand a quiet squeeze of support.  “You okay to go in?  We can totally sit here and chill if you need a minute.”

Max squeezed her eyelids tight for a moment, then nodded, letting out a hissing breath.  “Yeah.  You caught me before I really started to spiral.  Thanks.”  She opened her eyes and hoped they weren’t as red as they felt as she turned to look at the other woman.  “You always know, don’t you?”  
Chloe looked bemused.  “Know?”

Max shrugged, forcing herself to look deep into the other’s eyes.  “When stuff is really starting to get to me.”  Her voice was regaining its strength.  Not this time, panic attack.  Not this time.  “You can see it.  You can stop it.”

Chloe shrugged, looking almost uncomfortable.  “I don’t know about that.  I just know you, y’know?  I don’t have a superpower like you.”  

Max tried not to wince.  Chloe was good, but not perfect.  That wasn’t something she wanted to think about, but Chloe was trying her best.

“I just want to take care of you, Max.  Like you took care of me.”  She paused to think.  “Like you _take_ care of me.  I wouldn’t remember to feed myself half the time if you weren’t there to remind me.”  With her free hand, she gently caressed Max’s cheek, obviously concerned.  “I’m your partner in crime, remember?”

Max sniffed.  “Now who’s the dork?”  She smiled though, and after a quiet moment of pleasant silence leaned forward to kiss Chloe.  Chloe’s lips were so surprisingly soft, her skin so warm.  Her kisses could be rough and needy when things started to get hot and heavy, but for now they were slow and gentle and soothing.  Kissing Chloe made her problems just… fade.  Kissing Chloe was like… slipping into a pair of your favorite warm pajamas on a cold night, snuggling into bed with a soft pillow and hot chocolate.  Or something like that; she was a photographer, not a poet.

At some point, Max pulled back, looking slightly dazed and happy.  Chloe was looking at her with a sly smile, fondness written across her face in capital letters.  “I needed that.”

Chloe snorted.  “You spend the whole morning with your tongue in my mouth, and you _still_ needed that?  You’re going to suck me dry, you succubus!  I’ve only got so many kisses to give!”

Max punched her shoulder.  Chloe laughed.  “I’m hungry, Chloe.  Feed me.”

 

The Two Whales, newly rebuilt, looked much the same as it had before the storm.  Normally, it might not have been a priority in the reconstruction efforts following the destruction, but word had quickly spread about Joyce Madsen and her heroic actions in safeguarding the other survivors taking cover there.  It had become a symbol of the indomitability of Arcadia Bay and its people, and thus had been one of the first businesses to be restored.

It was a bit shinier now, less worn with age and rust.  While the shape and proportions hadn't changed much, it had been built larger than the original, room enough for a few new tables, as well as an expanded space behind the bar to allow Joyce to keep serving and cooking the way it seemed she always had before.

The atmosphere, though, was very different.  While never exactly empty, the old Two Whales had been home to a small crowd of regulars, and it wasn't often that every seat in the house would be taken.  After its newfound fame, the diner was packed nearly constantly from opening to closing.  You never used to have to wait for a booth, but these days it was a near certainty.

Luckily for Max and Chloe, it seemed that it was early enough that the crowds hadn't begun to arrive in earnest.  Chimes tinkled as the door swung quietly inward, and the incredible smells of pancake batter and popping bacon flooded Max's nose.  That hadn't changed.  Chloe hung back a little, pretending to examine some photo or another on the wall, while Max stepped forward to the counter.

Joyce had her back to them, gathering up a couple plates onto a special tray that had been fitted to the lap of her wheelchair.  Max waited patiently, content to simply enjoy the familiar sights and smells of the diner.  Of all the places she knew in this town, the Two Whales was one of the most nostalgic.

Something cold and unyielding tapped at her shoulder, and she turned to see Warren standing there with a big grin on his face, left arm reached out to poke her with.  "Max!  Didn't know you were gonna be here today!  If I had, I might have dressed up for the occasion."  His good arm was balancing a tray of dirty dishes, and for a moment she thought he looked whole and happier than she'd seen him since the storm.  Then reality crashed back in, and as he lowered his arm she saw his plastic prosthetic hand, and was reminded again of what she'd done to-

 _No._  She'd had her fill of self pity this morning, and she'd had time to come to terms with the fact that she storm she'd caused had taken Warren's arm.  

"You'd wear a T-shirt to a wedding, Warren," she replied, forcing a smile that she hoped looked natural.

"Yeah, yeah, but like, a fancy T-shirt," he grinned, gesturing at his chest with the prosthetic.  "Like one of those ones that looks like a tux!  You know I'd rock one of those."

Max rolled her eyes.  "Watch out, ladies.  We've got a man of class here."

"You know it."  He winked.  "You need help with a table, or did you wanna talk to Mrs. Madsen?"

"Chloe looks lost.  Maybe help her find a table for us, if you think you can do that without dropping your tray, Mr. Muscles.  I just wanted to check in with Joyce."

Warren nodded.  "I'll come talk to you ladies in a minute, yeah?  This is starting to get a little heavy."

By the time he'd turned around to nudge Chloe and lead her to a booth, Joyce had already turned around and gotten rid of the plates she'd been picking up.  It looked like she'd been waiting for Max to finish talking to Warren.

"Well hello, Max.  Decided to take me up on my offer, did you?"  She said with a smile.

Max returned the smile.  "You know I can't resist your cooking, Joyce," she said.  I'm a sucker for a good Belgian waffle."

Joyce nodded thoughtfully.  "You're lookin' a bit more chipper than you were this morning.  Does that mean you're feeling better, or are you just puttin' on a tough face for Chloe?"

Max shook her head.  "Nah, I really am feeling better.  You know, just bad dreams.  Sometimes I don't realize how bad they mess me up.  Chloe was a big help."

Joyce raised an eyebrow.  "After the way she came runnin' to help when I called, I'm surprised you got her to wake up at all."

Max shrugged.  "You know Chloe.  She could sleep through a war."

"Ain't that the truth.  I ever tell you about the time her father tried to surprise her with breakfast in bed for her birthday, and she-?"

"And she was asleep so hard you got scared and almost called 911, yeah," Max laughed.  "That's a good one.  Not like me.  I'd wake up if a pin dropped somewhere in the next room."

Joyce shrugged.  "It's a blessin' and a curse, I suppose.  William-" She shook her head.  "Ah, it's not important.  He'd be happy to see you and Chloe as happy as you are."

Max smiled.  "I'm sure he would."

"Max!  Come oooon!" Chloe called from somewhere far off.  A couple people turned around to see what all the fuss was about.

Now it was Joyce's turn to roll her eyes.  "Sounds like you're bein' summoned.  I won't keep you.  I've got orders to fill anyhow."

"One second," Max said, then took a breath.  She got nervous about the stupidest things, but this was important.  "I just wanted to say how grateful I am for everything you're doing for me.  I know it's not easy to have an extra mouth to feed, especially with all the house repairs and medical bills, but you really are Super Mom.  You didn't have to let me stay with you guys, but you did."  Her cheeks heated up, and they'd probably gone pink.  "I haven't said it in a while, and I just thought you should know how much it means to me.  You're the best, Joyce."

It took a moment for Joyce to respond.  She clearly hadn't been expecting this, but neither did she look especially surprised.  "Max, you're like a daughter to me.  I said that when y'all were kids, and I still mean it today.  Chloe loves you, and you're a good influence on her.  I couldn't ask for someone better to take care of her, and you've been so helpful around the house.  You know how Chloe is.  It's good to have an extra pair of hands and feet who will help without puttin' up a fuss about it."  She nodded.  "As far as I'm concerned, you belong here, Max."

Joyce had said similar things before, but never so clear and unambiguous at that.  Today has been such a roller coaster that Max almost felt herself tear up, and a warm feeling spread through her chest.  She kept it under control, though.  Barely.  "Thanks, Joyce.  I'm... glad you think so."

"Maaaaaax!"

Joyce snorted.  "Go see your girl, Max.  I'll be here whenever you need me."

With another stammered thanks, Max finally pulled herself away and slid into the booth across from Chloe.  She glared half-seriously.  "We were trying to have a moment.  Couldn't you wait like two minutes?"

Chloe clasped her hands behind her head and half closed her eyes.  "I was bored.  Besides, you can talk to mom any time you want.  I thought you were hungry."

Max rolled her eyes, faintly exasperated.  "She is doing a lot for us, Chloe.  Maybe you should turn down the rebel without a cause stuff.  Sometimes."

Chloe stuck her tongue out, clearly not taking the conversation seriously.  "Okay, _Mom_."

Max sighed.  "You can be _such_ a baby."

"Takes one to know one!"

Max narrowed her eyes.  "You're lucky you're all the way over there, or I'd shut you up myself."

"Ooooooh, Max is getting tough!  I like it!  Bring it on!"

Max tried to keep looking mad, but couldn't quite manage it.  Chloe was just too damn cute.  After a moment, she burst out laughing.

So did Chloe.  "Anyway," she said once they had finally calmed down.  "I know.  You're right, I can be kind of..."  She searched for the word.  "...Difficult.  But come on, mom would think something was wrong if I wasn't.  It's part of my charm, quit fucking it up."

Max rolled her eyes.  "There's _something_ wrong with you, that's for sure."

Chloe blew her a kiss.

Max blew her a raspberry in reply.

"Whoa there," said Warren's voice.  "The sexual tension is so thick that you're gonna choke all the other customers.  Keep it up and I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Max turned her head to look at him, smiling slightly.  "Says the _king_ of uncomfortable sexual tension.  I don't make fun of you and Brooke."

"Yes, you do!" Chloe interjected.  "Constantly."

"Traitor."

Warren gave Chloe a little bow.  "I rest my case."

"Speaking of Brooke," Max said, "is she still in for tomorrow?"

Warren shrugged.  "Dunno.  I can't get anything more definite than a maybe out of her.  She's got a thing with her parents in the afternoon, so she might hit her social limit.  She wants to come to the game, but we'll see."

Max nodded understandingly.  Brooke was something of a wallflower, and she could only take so much face-to-face interaction before she basically shut down.  "Well, tell her that I hope she can make it.  She missed a good session last week."

Warren nodded.  "I'll let her know.  She's not good at expressing it, but the game means a lot to her.  I can tell."

Max beamed.  "I'm glad!  D&D with you guys is one of the best times of my week."  She nudged Chloe's ankle under the table with her foot.

"What?  Oh, me too!" said Chloe with all the subtlety of a sock full of bricks to the face.

"Good!"  Warren didn't seem to have noticed.  "Running it is hard work, you know!  You better appreciate it."  He glanced behind him, and seemed to start.  "Anyway," he said, awkwardly scratching his face with his prosthetic, "I'd love to keep chatting, but we've got customers.  Let me know what you want and we'll get right on it."

He took their orders - a Belgian waffle for Max and steak and eggs for Chloe - gave them a playful salute with his good hand, and walked off to service other tables.

Max and Chloe engaged in idle banter until the food arrived.  This was good for herself, Max thought.  This kind of normality.  It made the dreams and the panic attacks feel so much farther away to just joke with Chloe and Warren and pretend like she was just a normal girl again.  For a while, she could almost fool herself into thinking she was.

When the food came, it was just icing on the cake.  She was happy.


	4. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a mix up and Sid got their ao3 account deleted, but they should be listed as co-author again. Some of them still say they're by just Ben, but every chapter is co-authored by us both.
> 
> The positive feedback we've been getting is amazing! If you have any praise or constructive criticism or questions, leave us a comment! It really does a lot for our motivation.

Max and Chloe picked up some bacon and pre-buttered pancakes on the way out, which Warren paid for, and on which he affixed a note filled with sketches and kind words. Joyce added a small note on the styrofoam box, too.

Max turned to say something to Chloe and nearly collided with the next oncoming patron to the Whales. He smelled like stale cigarette smoke and day old whiskey, but that was an improvement over the overtones of whale decay that permeated the town.

“The Wonder Twins. I'm shocked.” A small smile played at the corners of Frank's lips.

“Hey, Frank.”

Chloe moved subtly between Max and the man in the doorway. It wasn't a conscious move, Max noted, just a protective one, and rightly so after the dealings with Frank.

He paused awkwardly, smile faltering. “I've uh. Been avoiding you guys, but I guess I don't have much of a choice other than to finally talk to you two crazy bitches. Er. Sorry. I'm trying to work on that.” He shuffled, looking down. “Let's step outside for a minute, yeah?”

Chloe eyed him warily, but Max brushed by, catching her hand and pulling her to follow Frank. “Are you okay, man?” Chloe’s voice was cautious and uncertain. “You're acting hella weird.”

Frank shoved his calloused hands in his black jacket that had… something all over it. Max’s nose itched a little. “Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't like talking about some things in front of a whole diner, okay?”

The three rounded the building, and Max had grown overly tense, her shoulders creeping closer to her ears and her heart rate steadily increasing.

“Alright, look. I've been avoiding you two since…” he looked distant for a moment. “Anyway, Chloe, we go back, and you owed me cash for a long time, which I'm still pissed about, but since I found out that that _bastard_ used _my_ drugs to kill Rachel, I just couldn't do it anymore. I can't expect you to pay. I don't expect you to pay. You gave me answers as payment. You gave me closure.” He paused again, looking down and shaking his head. “I used all the money I made this year to build an animal shelter, and uh. There are a lot of animals still homeless, so if you see any without a home, drop them off with me, okay? You know how to reach me.”

“Goddamn, Frank, you're a total fucking sap,” Chloe teased, but smiled genuinely - not her usual shit eating grin. “Is that why you're a walking allergen?”

“You're covered in dog hair?” Max clapped a hands over her mouth and still couldn't stifle the laugh bubbling from her belly. Frank had gone soft. Softer than usual.

“Hey, fuck you guys.” But he smiled through a scowl. Only Frank. He sobered again. “The local blue knows I had the drugs but aren't making an issue out of it. Nathan was a lot of bad things, _including_ a fucking murderer, but he didn't rat me out. The feds know Rachel and I are…” He stopped. “were. I talked with a few of ‘em, and they're leaving me out of it - said they'd pin it on that twat the news showed. That I wasn't a terrible citizen and they had enough to worry about. Community service crap.” He waved a dismissive hand.

Chloe darkened at the mention of Rachel but held her tongue. For once. Grudgingly, she sniffed, “I'm glad you're turning around, Frank.”

“Hell, that doesn't mean you can't bum some broccoli from me every now and then.” He rubbed at his wrist. He didn't wear Rachel's bracelet anymore but rubbed at the spot like an old habit.

Broccoli had become an ongoing joke  between Max and Chloe after Chloe poorly lied to Joyce about a plastic bag of illicit substance that accidentally got put up with the groceries. In a fit of hysterical laughter, Chloe relayed the escapade to Frank through text, to which he only responded “dumbass.” Apparently, that had been the only contact between them since Rachel's funeral. It sounded like a peaceful gesture  to reference such a small thing.

“Count on it.” Chloe gave her best shit eating grin.  Well, she could only hold it in for so long, Max supposed.  “It can be your Christmas gift to us both, since little cream puff here never baked before.”

Max smiled sheepishly. “Cream puff, my ass,” she snorted.

Chloe threw her arm around Max casually, not in the protective way she acted before. It was intimate. Warm. Wholly grounding and pure.

Frank shuffled a little before the light bulb all but literally popped over his head. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” He dug through his dog fur coat to pull out business cards and folded flyers, all announcing The Amber Animal Haven and contact information. The logo showed a blue jay in flight.

Max flinched but swallowed her writhing nerves to take the information. With a cotton mouth, she asked, “Flyers?”

Chloe sputtered, “ _Business cards?_ ”

Frank rolled his eyes but shrugged. “Yeah, I have to get the info out somehow. Joyce was telling me how you two go to the hospital sometimes to visit what's her name churchy school girl and take her breakfast. I figured, since that chick volunteers there, she can put up the stuff.” He grunted. “I'm tired of talking and I need to feed the cats when I get back, so see you guys later. And uh, hit up if you're serious about that uh, broccoli.” He smiled slightly again and walked off, stormy expression returning quickly as it had gone.

Max felt warm tingly sensations running through her cold fingers, and she looked up at Chloe who still mused at Frank's literature. “The Amber Animal Shelter, huh?”  

Max nodded. “He loved her too, Chloe.”

Chloe sneered, face contorting into a mask of disgust. “She didn't love me the way I wanted her to, and I should have always known it was one sided.”

Max grew quiet. That had been the wrong thing to say. She _could_ just rewi- No.  She didn't do that anymore.  She could.  But that was a dangerous, dangerous path to walk down, even for something as small as correcting a faux pas. 

The thought of giving in to that temptation, even once.... it chilled her blood.

“I still do in my way, but... as a lost friend. I wish you could have met her, Max, but then again, I would have serious competition for your affections.” Her face smoothed back out into a sad smile. “I'm glad he did this. Not just for the town, but for her too. She deserves something filled with life and hope.”

Max didn't say anything this time.

Chloe side eyed her slightly concerned. “You know I have no regrets about us being together, right? Rachel meant a lot to me, but deep down I knew it wasn't… what I wanted it to be.” She paused with a defeated sigh. “You're turning blue. Let's get you heated up in the truck.”

Max felt a chill run down her spine, but it wasn't from the cold. She walked a few steps and stopped. “Chloe, I don't regret my decision.”

Chloe, whose back was turned toward Max, froze and went rigid. She turned and stalked back, an unreadable expression on her face before she slapped the biggest smooch she'd ever lain on Max in public. Max nearly dropped Kate's breakfast.

A cheerful voice shouted from the diner window. “Get a room!”

Max beat Chloe to it and flipped Warren off. Chloe laughed, her lips still on Max’s, and Max felt her heart swell. She knew Chloe loved her, and it was enough.

“Let's go take these yummy yums to Kate before they get frozen solid.”

Snow began to fall lightly, painting Chloe’s beanie polka dotted.

“Max, you're killing me. All these kisses. What is a meme like me to do?”

“Calm down, Pepe. You'll be fine. Who knows? You may even get laid for Christmas, since I don't have really a lot of gifts.”

Chloe’s face blanched and turned bright pink, ears included. Steam practically sizzled off her face from the frozen snow hitting such a hot surface. “Just get in the damn truck,” she mumbled, walking off and fumbling with her keys. She dropped them in the freshly forming snow coat.

Max laughed deep from her belly and trotted to the truck, which roared to life and ticked impatiently. She slung the door open and hopped in, hot, dry air warming her cold nose and frigid fingers. “My fingers are cold, Chloe. Give me a place to put them.”

Chloe’s face grew brighter, and she accidentally hit the gas instead of the break in a flustered moment. They peeled out of the Two Whales parking lot with a squall and headed toward the hospital.

The drive was filled with pleasant teasing and happy thoughts followed by serious conversation, which almost immediately digressed into laughter and embarrassment. The reached the hospital and walked hand in hand to the entrance.

“Are we gonna tell her, Super Max?”

“If us holding hands isn't enough to point it out, I don't know what is.”

“We will literally need to bang on the receptionists’ desk to get the point across to that girl.”

“ _My_ , Chloe, you sound like you've thought about this before.”

Chloe flushed again. “Jesus, stop shutting me down. _I'm_ supposed to be the snarky one!”

Max have Chloe a quick peck and felt butterflies in her stomach. Today was the day.

They walked in.

Kate Marsh all but knocked them over in an unexpectedly powerful tackle-hug and exclaimed, “I _knew_ it!!!”

Chloe started, bracing herself for the upcoming conversation. “Listen, Kate, I know that it's not exactly, um, smiled upon, but we couldn't be happier than we are as a couple.”

The much shorter girl looked up at them from her hug, eyes wide. “Were… you not together before…?” She paused, puzzled.  A silver cross dangled from her neck over the top of her scrubs, her hair was up, and she looked positively radiant.  A far cry from the beaten puppy she had been when Max had first met her.  “I was just happy you both stopped by! I had a feeling you would come today!”

“You knew we were together?” Max felt her face turning as pink as Kate's heart covered scrubs.

“Doesn't everyone?” she asked matter of factly.

Max shoved the styrofoam box at Kate. “Eat your damn pancakes, shorty.”

Kate laughed, which was still such a pleasant sound. Max had seen her cry far too many times.

Kate set aside the food for her actual break, but read the attached notes with a huge grin. She looked up at Max and Chloe and laughed. Chloe smiled back, but she was sort of hovering just behind Max’s shoulder.  Kate still made Chloe a little nervous. “Max, you saved my life, and now I get to help others with that life. I don't know how you did it, but I'm glad you were there. There was so much darkness - more darkness than the storm - and I managed through that with you helping me. This is truly a blessing, and Max Caulfield, you're the angel who _brings_ that blessing.”

Chloe and Max exchanged a look. Max could feel her cheeks and the tips of her ears turn bright pink. “Should we tell her?”

“If she can be _this_ deeply religious _and_ accept a couple of gays being in a relationship in a small town in Oregon, I think she can manage anything.” Her sarcasm betrayed her eyes which asked, _Are you okay to do this?_

Max nodded. “Kate, I have something to tell you that might be hard to believe. Do you have the time?”

Kate's eyes sparkled. “It's been a slow day.”

 


	5. How Far You've Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all our readers! You are beautiful people, and we're thankful for all of you.
> 
> Comments are really appreciated! We like to know what we did well and what needs work. Don't be shy.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Chloe had asked Max two nights ago as they both lounged in bed, holding each other tenderly.  Max had been wearing old sweatpants and a plain blue t-shirt, but Chloe had only worn an oversized shirt for some band Max had never heard of and a pair of comfortable old boxers.  

She remembered the strangest little details, sometimes.  Little snapshots of the past.  It reminded her of something Jefferson had mentioned in that endless lecture where everything had started, but that detail didn't hurt so much to think about.  He'd been right.

Max had been quiet for a long moment, her head resting on Chloe's breast.  "Honestly, no, I'm not.  But...  Chloe, this is bad.  My head.  I haven't been the same since the storm and you know it."

Chloe furrowed her brow.  "Well, of course not.  Anyone would be a little weird after seeing the shit you went through."  Max could feel her tense a little.  "Not that you're weird or anything, I-"  She sighed.  "Shit."

Max's hand crept down Chloe's arm and entwined her fingers with the other woman's.  Their forearms were warm and soft against each other in the cool dark.  "No, Chloe, you're right.  I _have_ been weird.  I have you, and I'm so, so grateful for that.  Your understanding..." She shook her head slightly, the fabric of Chloe's shirt scratching at her ear.  "It means everything to me, and you know it."

Chloe's fingers tightened around hers.  "Of course I do."

"But... it can't _just_ be you.  Can it?"  Max struggled to find the words.  "I need a therapist, and we both know that isn't an option."  They'd spent real time talking about _that_ in the past.  "But I can't just... keep it inside me forever.  I've seen what happens to people who do that.  It feels like this... _bullshit_ is all I am, and I can't let anyone know a single thing about it."

Chloe pressed a kiss gingerly on the top of Max's head.  She smelled like perfume and cigarettes - a smell that had become comforting over the past two months.  "Max... I know it's hard.  I can't be in your head with you, but... I see it.  Even when you're asleep, I can see it."  She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.  "I don't know Kate like you do.  I imagine it and I just.... Max, I don't want her to hurt you.  Even by accident."

"She-" Max began.

Chloe shook her head.  "Let me finish, okay?  I'm right there with you.  If we can find a way for you to.... get it out.  An outlet, or something, you know I am one hundred percent your support.  What would it do to you if you opened up to her and she just... threw it in your face."  She squeezed Max's hand again.  "Okay, maybe she wouldn't do _that_ , but could you handle the disbelief?  It was hard enough for me to accept it, and that's when you were still using your power."

Max flexed her left hand, her free hand, uncomfortably.

"I know Kate means a lot to you, and I know how grateful she is after the roof thing.  I just want you to be careful, okay?"

Doubts had flown around Max's head like flocks of birds.  She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, thinking. She might have told Warren in another timeline, and although _he_ had believed her then, would Kate? How would Kate react?  Could she handle it if Kate couldn't believe her?  She wasn't sure.  But...

"I have to try.  Maybe not tomorrow or the next day but.... I have to try."  She subconsciously snuggled a little closer to Chloe.  "I don't know if it's the right thing to do, or a smart thing to do.  But I think this is important.  If anyone would believe me... it'd be her."

Chloe nuzzled Max's hair with her cheek, closing her eyes.  "Then I'm right there with you, Super-Max.  I'll back you up."

Max smiled.  Chloe could always make her smile, no matter how uncertain she felt.  "Thanks, Chloe.  I'll... I'll let you know when I'm ready."

Max could feel Chloe's lips twist into a smile as well.  "Wouldn't miss it."

 

The hospital's cafeteria wasn't exactly a bastion of fine cuisine, and it smelled a little like antiseptic, which was off-putting, but they weren't here for the food.  Not really.  

Max, Chloe, and Kate sat around a little table in the corner, far away from the hungry nurses and doctors and families of patients.  There weren't a lot of them around, and they'd been able to get a little isolation.  Max was thankful for that privacy.

They'd presented Kate with the little styrofoam box full of pancakes, and, miraculously, she'd managed to scrounge up a couple packets of syrup and butter from the buffet.  Kate loved sweet things.

Max watched Kate as she spread butter over the top of them, then daintily pulled the top from the little tub of syrup and carefully poured it over a single pancake.  

Chloe watched Max a little more intently than usual.  Max had a sinking feeling that Chloe was preparing to bail the two of them out of the cafeteria if the conversation went badly.  She hoped Chloe would have the good sense to let her _try_ first.

She glanced over at Chloe, giving her head the tiniest little shake.   _No trouble._

Chloe rolled her eyes.

Setting the now empty syrup container to the side of her plate, Kate picked up her little plastic fork and knife and cut into the pancake, seemingly oblivious to the two of them.  

Max let her enjoy that first bite before speaking up.  God, she was nervous.  She forced a little cheer into her voice  and hoped it wasn't too obvious. "How's the volunteering been going, Kate?  I haven't seen you in a couple weeks."

Kate smiled broadly, and she looked up from her food.  "It's been going really great, Max!  The people here are so nice, and I feel like I've been able to do really good work.  Helping people, like you helped me."

Max loved Kate, but she kind of wished the other girl would stop bringing that up all the time.  Max didn't feel like a hero, and it made her a little uncomfortable to be reminded of it too frequently.  She supposed it was a really important in Kate's life, but it felt so... obscene.  "I'm really glad, Kate."  

Kate sliced off another sliver of pancake, chewed, and swallowed before responding.  "Oh, you've heard it all before.  We've talked about it so much, I'd probably just be repeating myself."

Max knew what she had to say, but now that she was here, she really didn't want to say it.  What if Kate thought she was crazy?  What if she was about to ruin their friendship?  What if-

_Nope_.  She wasn't going to go down that road, but she wasn't ready.  When in doubt, procrastinate.

"No, you know I love to hear it!  I'm so glad to hear you're doing okay."  Max smiled warmly, shoving thoughts of the _real_ conversation she'd come here to have to the back of her mind.  "We haven't talked much lately anyway.  Fill me in!"

Chloe coughed, then twitched her head toward Kate.  Max shook her head again.

They chatted for a few minutes, Max and Kate, about the minutia of volunteering at the hospital, about Kate's pet rabbit, Alice, about Max and Chloe.  She was making friends here, Max learned, which was such a relief to hear.  Kate wasn't mistreated at school anymore, but most of the time it seemed like no one but Max was close to her, either.

Chloe was growing more visibly uncomfortable by the minute.  

Kate's stack of pancakes dwindled. She continued to add syrup to each pancake individually, politely swallowing before speaking.  She wouldn't be caught dead speaking with her mouth full.

"Nobody's been giving you any trouble, have they?" Max asked as the conversation turned toward school.

Kate shook her head.  "No, everyone is still being really nice to me.  Um, the people who don't just avoid me, anyway."

"Victoria?"

Kate nodded.  "I'd kind of like to talk to her, you know?  I feel like I should tell her that I've forgiven her, especially after all that trouble she went to to apologize when I got out of the hospital."

"You're a good person, Kate."   _Better than me, definitely._

Kate smiled, but looked away.  "I don't know about that.  I just think Victoria is probably in a lot of pain too, you know?  I'd like to help her."  She touched the silvery cross hanging from her neck, perhaps unconsciously.  Kate was a genuinely good person.  Religion gave her an outlet.

Max sometimes wondered how much of Kate's sweet, generous personality had to do with her devout beliefs, and how much was just _Kate_. She supposed it didn't matter, but she leaned more toward the latter, especially after what she'd heard of Kate's mother and her extended family.  Frankly, it was a wonder they hadn't beaten that compassion out of her.  But that was Kate, wasn't it?  She was a lot stronger than anyone gave her credit for.  Everyone remembered the tears, and forgot how much suffering it had taken to reach that point.  

Max shrugged.  "I think she's insecure, definitely."  She'd heard that much from Victoria's own lips, in another timeline.  "But in a lot of pain?"

Kate nodded.  "Maybe I'm being silly, but I don't think she's so bad, deep down.  I think she feels like she _has_ to be the way she is."

"A bitch?" Chloe interjected helpfully.

Kate gave her a look that was slightly reproachful, but she couldn't help smiling.  

Chloe just grinned.  Max was pretty sure Chloe and Victoria had never been in the same room together, but Chloe had heard all Max's horror stories.  

"I feel bad for her.  Pain makes people act in ways they shouldn't," Kate said sadly.  "It's different for everybody.  I've been there, you know?  I know what it's like to feel forced into being something you're not.  I'd just like to talk to her.  Maybe she doesn't want to be friends with me, and that's okay, but I think that conversation would be good for both of us."  The fact that it might be cathartic for Kate herself seemed almost an afterthought.

Chloe mostly looked startled, but she kept on leaning back in her chair, balancing on two legs.

Max reached out and touched Kate's hand.  "I'm proud of you, Kate.  You've come a long way."  

Kate looked back at her and smiled.  "I'd like to think so."  She hesitated.  "But... something tells me you didn't come here for small talk."

Max's stomach dropped out from under her, and her blood ran cold.   _Oh, fuck._

"You said you wanted to tell me something.  You... seemed pretty serious when you said it, too."  Kate looked down, gently closing the styrofoam box, as if looking for an excuse to do something with her hands.

"I..."  Max said.  She'd prepared a speech, a way to broach the subject, but now that Kate was confronting her with it, she had forgotten all of it.  It wasn't like she could just laugh it off, now.  She had to say _something_.

Chloe leaned forward.  The raised legs of her chair touched ground with a gentle _clunk_.  The average person wouldn't have noticed, but Max could see her go tense from the corner of her eye, as if getting ready to spring.

Kate waited expectantly but politely, looking down at her hands.  She seemed a little nervous, too.   _We need to talk_ is never a sentiment that breeds much in the way of confidence, Max supposed.

She took a deep breath.  "I just...  wanted to tell you something about me.  Something that.... It might seem a little crazy, but you know I would never lie to you or try to pull a prank like this on you."

"It couldn't be worse than you being gay, could it?"  Her voice stayed jovial, but Kate was clearly unsettled, yet still making an effort to keep the mood light.  Her brow furrowed, and she leaned in closer to examine Max.  "Hey, are you okay...?"

Max nodded, but she couldn't speak.  She had to focus on her breathing.  That was step one, right?  She couldn't talk about it if she wasn't calm, or else she'd absolutely spiral down into a panic attack, or worse. Slow breath in, slow breath out.  Calm.

Chloe reached out to touch her arm.  "Max?"  She looked worried too.  "Maybe this wasn't a good idea.  Maybe we should get you home."

Max shook her head, trying to force her heart rate down.   _Now or never, Caulfield.  Suck it up._  She took a deep breath, and then spoke quickly enough for it to blend into a single word.  "Icantravelthroughtime."

Kate blinked.  She looked like she wasn't quite sure what Max had just said.  

Chloe's hand tightened on her forearm, the pressure reassuring even though it coursed with nervous tension.  That firm grasp helped to ground her. Hold her down.

She forced herself to slow down.  "A couple months ago.  The week of the... the storm."  Her voice was a little shaky, but who knew?  Maybe that would add credibility to what she was saying.

Or it would make her look insane.  One or the other.  She wanted to laugh.

"I discovered I could.... go back in time.  Not long.  Just a couple minutes or so."  She felt her left hand clench on the table, almost unconsciously.  "I-I know it sounds crazy, but I promise it's true.  I had this dream that there was going to be a tornado, and then I saw Chloe die, and I reached out and-"

Chloe's touch tightened again, and she forced herself to stop and take a deep breath.  She'd been beginning to hyperventilate.

Kate looked puzzled, and she sat back in her seat.  She didn't look scornful, at least, but she did look content to let Max keep talking. Kate looked worried, but not about Max’s mental stability.  More about Max’s obvious difficulty and… pain.

There was a lot of that.

"Sorry... Sorry.  Let me start over."  Haltingly at first, then with more and more confidence, she described the events of that first day, starting with the dream.  Kate's brow was furrowed, but she stayed quiet, letting Max talk.  "I know, I promise I _know_ it sounds crazy, but it's true."   _Show her_ , a voice whispered in her head, but she forced it to be silent.  No.  She didn't do that anymore.  No matter how tempting it was.

Kate was silent.  She sat back in her chair, her eyes focused on nothing.  It looked like gears were turning in her head.

Max reached the end of the first day, then trailed off into silence herself.  She was shaking a little.

Chloe was silent, too, but only for a minute.  She looked back and forth from Max to Kate, then said, quietly, "We don't know each other that well, so I guess you don't have any reason to trust me, but it's true.  All of it.  And there's more, after that-"

Max shook her head, cutting her off.  A cold hand had closed on her heart, squeezing.  She couldn't breathe.  This had been such a mistake.  She should have just kept quiet about it, not made waves, kept it to herself-

"When I was standing on that roof," Kate began quietly, looking down at her hands on the table.  She looked... thoughtful.  Not skeptical or incredulous.  "Looking down at everyone.  I remember every detail.  Every face, every voice...  It's all so clear.  So vivid.  I'll..."  She closed her eyes, then took a shaking breath herself.  "I'll never forget it.  Ever.  I thought it would be the last thing I'd ever see.  And..." She opened her eyes, turning her head to look at Max.  Her expression was serious.  "I saw you.  I remember seeing you.  You were one of the last people to show up, right before I..." Her voice broke a little.

Max just stared with her mouth slightly agape.  Her brain was frozen in place.  Where was she going with this?

"But then... I turned around, and there you were.  On the roof with me.  You were exhausted, and your nose was bleeding, but you were _there_."  She clasped her hands together silently and bit her lip.  "I was so angry, so frustrated that you were there to stop me, but when I could think clearly again... I remembered.  I thought about how... how _impossible_ it was.  It was a miracle.  You had been on the ground, and then you'd been on the roof, and I was so sure it had been a miracle.  How else could I explain it?"  She blinked, and her eyes glistened.  "And it _was_ , Max.  It was a miracle.  It all makes sense now.  I... I always knew that the Lord had His hand in it somehow, that you must have been sent by Him to bring me back from the edge, but..."  She reached out with both hands and clasped Max's.

Max was still shocked silent.  

Chloe looked like she felt about the same. Her worried eyes had shifted to shock, accompanied by highly raised, neatly kept eyebrows.

"This just _proves_ it, Max, don't you see?  I always knew a miracle had happened that day, and this just _proves_ it!"  A tear finally ran down her face, dropping onto the styrofoam box.  "You were my miracle.  I finally understand, Max. Maybe I don't understand every part of it, but I don't think we were meant to understand everything."

Max struggled for words. She had always thought about being _Chloe’s_ miracle, but never _Kate's_. It was just a byproduct of the rest.  One of the few uses of her power that had done real, unambiguous good.  “Kate, I…” Of all the reactions she’d expected, pure, uncomplicated _acceptance_ had been nowhere near the top of the list.  

Chloe blinked.

“I believe you, Max.  Thank you for telling me this,” Kate said, her voice so, so genuine and heartfelt.  “I believe you.”

Max almost dissolved into tears herself at that moment.  Kate _believed_ her.  Someone knew, someone other than Chloe _could_ know.  She squeezed Kate’s hands and nodded, drawing in a shaky breath.  

If Kate believed that much, maybe she’d believe the rest.  She had someone else she could confide in, to validate her.

Max opened her mouth, and the rest of the story poured out.  Everything from the diner that second day to the dark room, to the storm.  She talked about Chloe.  She talked about Jefferson.  She talked about it all.  

Kate didn’t question any of it.  She nodded her way through, letting Max talk.  It was probably pretty clear to her that Max needed this.  To be able to _talk_ about what had happened. It took pauses and breaths to recompose, but she finished eventually.

And when Max finished, tears rolling down her face and her hands shaking, Kate stood, walked around the table, and bent over to take Max in a tight hug, somewhat awkwardly, thanks to the uncomfortable metal chairs.  Max clung to her, letting out a soft sound like a sob, and Chloe had the good sense to stay out of it.  Was that a brief look of jealousy on her face?  But no, that didn't make sense.  This was a catharsis of a different kind than Chloe could provide. Max only barely noticed Chloe giving the evil eye to some overly curious cafeteria patrons.  They were making a bit of a scene, after all.

Kate held her, and shushed her, and petted her hair, whispering, “I believe you,” again, and again. She meant it from the depths of her soul and Max felt it in every word - every repetition.

It was just what Max needed to hear.

 

Kate held her like that until she was all cried out, her eyes puffy and red.  At least once, someone had begun to approach them to see what was going on, but a glare from Chloe was more than enough to discourage any would-be do-gooders.

Talking about it had been easier than she'd expected, but that had a lot to do with what a good audience Kate had been.

A few moments later, Max gently pulled away from the hug, smiling up at Kate.  "Sorry... I didn't think I'd do that again.  It's just... Kate, I'm so glad you believe me."

Kate nodded.  "I know, Max.  In a way, I felt the same way.  Nobody believed me when I talked about what I saw on the roof.  They didn't believe God would waste a miracle on me, I guess.  But we were both right."

"I just needed someone else to know.  I needed someone else to talk to, and I'm so sorry if this... dragged up bad memories or anything." She took in a shaky breath, feeling physically exhausted from the emotionally strenuous conversation.

Kate shook her head.  "Max, I'm so thankful that you came to me with this.  You're my guardian angel, but you're also my _friend._  You can always come to me."

Chloe still seemed a little wary, as if she were still suspicious of Kate's good intentions, but when Max glanced over at her, she looked away, pretending to pick at one of her nails instead.

"It's been... hard."

Kate gave Max's shoulder a squeeze with one hand, then turned back to sit in her chair, tilted to face her.  "That stuff you mentioned about... About Jefferson."

Max closed her eyes and inhaled softly.  "It was so bad, Kate.  If someone touches my neck and I can't see them, I freak out.  I wake up in the night, shaking."

Kate nodded sympathetically.  "I understand, Max. Well... as much as anyone can understand.  What happened to me there doesn't even hold a candle to what you went through, but-"

Max shook her head.  "Don't say that.  It's not a contest."  

Kate relented.  "...If you say so, I guess.  But... I was there too, is my point.  You're not alone, okay?"  She reached out to touch Max's hand again.  "I know what you went through.  I know what it feels like to be... taken, and used, and..."

"Hurt?"  Max sighed and looked away.  "How do you do it, Kate?  How can you forgive something like that?"

Kate's face hardened, maybe the most serious she'd ever seen the quiet girl.  "I don't know, Max.  I know I should.  Everything I've learned says that I need to forgive.  But I just..."  She shuddered.  "I can't, Max.  It... haunts me.  Just like you."  She forced a little smile.  "Alice can tell when it's bothering me.  She gets right up to the edge of her cage and presses her little nose to the bars and..." She shook her head.  

Alice was Kate's beloved bunny rabbit.  Max had helped take care of her while Kate had been in the hospital.  She liked the little rodent.  She tried to smile back.

"But you're right.  You feel like you've been tainted.  Like... like you'll never be the same.  And every time I even try to think about forgiveness, I think about that blinding light, and that weird taste in my mouth and not being able to move, and their hands on me and I just..."

Max took one of Kate's hands in both of hers.  "Kate...?"

Kate trailed off.  She was shaking, and her eyes were closed.  A tear trickled down one pale cheek, and she furiously scrubbed it away with the back of her hand.  "...Sorry.  I know seeing me cry about it doesn't help..."

"Kate..."

She shook her head.  "It just hits me sometimes, you know?"  Max opened her mouth, and Kate shot her a look.  "Don't you dare apologize for bringing it up, Max Caulfield.  It... hurts.  Yeah.  But I haven't had anyone to talk about it with either, you know.  Half my family still won't speak to me after the... the video."  For a moment, the old Kate was back.  Haunted and sad and hopeless.  Listless.  Then she shook her head and looked more or less normal again, and Max wondered how much of a front Kate was really putting up to appear so okay.  How much pain was she still hiding?

Chloe leaned over the table, resting her elbows against the hard plastic surface, and actually spoke.  "They got to me too, y'know," she said quietly.  "Or at least, that little prick Nathan did.  He drugged me and he dragged me to his room and..."

An image flashed through Max's head; a photograph that she'd tried so hard to forget.  Chloe, shivering on the floor, her eyes red....   _God._

"Well...  I got away, but I understand too, yeah?"  Chloe looked uncomfortable, though whether because it hurt to bring up or because she still wasn't quite comfortable around Kate, Max couldn't tell.  But Chloe was trying, and it was more than she'd asked for.  "So... you're double not alone.  I guess."  Her eyes flicked from Kate to Max and back, as if looking for an out.

Max smiled at her.  "Thanks, Chloe."  She looked at the table for a moment, then stuck one of her hands out in the center, palm down.

Kate placed one of her own hands on top of hers, and after a moment of hesitation, so did Chloe.

Max just sat there quietly for a moment, letting them each feel the warmth of the others touch.  

"They couldn't break us," she said quietly.  

Chloe blinked, and Kate looked startled.  But they both leaned in to listen.

"They took us," Max continued softly, "and they tried their worst.  They tried to break us.  When I was in the dark room, Jefferson said... He said something about the true beauty of the moment when hope turns to despair.  He wanted to see us break."  She looked into Kate's eyes and nodded, then slowly, deliberately did the same to Chloe.  "But we're still here.  We're in one piece, and he's locked up.  He's going to be for a very long time, and all three of us are going to have long, happy lives, _despite_ him.  To spite him, if nothing else.  Chloe, Kate... We're strong."  Her voice shook a little, and she could see Kate's eyes glistening.  Even Chloe looked affected.  "We're a team, now.  We're not the survivors, or the victims.  We're the victors."

Kate nodded.  "...Thank you, Max."  She smiled, and looked her straight in the eye.  "Thank you.  We're a team."

Chloe looked back and forth, trying to act like she didn't care.  "Yeah, whatever," she said casually, though Max could tell that something else was happening below the surface.  "Team."

Max beamed, and for once, she didn't feel like alone, didn't feel like a victim.

She felt like part of something.

 


	6. Should Have Known Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everybody! A few things! Thank you all for your wonderful support, comments, kudos, and sharing! Keep it up! Also a huge thanks to Ben for keeping things going smoothly posting every week. I'll try to be a little more present! 
> 
> This week's illustration is from the lovely cinnamonsnaps!  
> -Sid (thesilvergoddess)

The three sat in close company, all their bodies touching and their hushed words only reaching each other's ears. Even Chloe leaned in and opened herself to Kate, even though it was slight. Max could see the flicker of hope in Chloe’s eyes that maybe this was the beginning of a support network. Her posture was still guarded and wary, but a sense of careful peace enveloped her features and smoothed her worried brow.

A good time after the tears and blossoms of deeper friendship, Kate grudgingly started back to work.

“After all this time, I probably won't have a break for days!” She laughed - still such a beautiful, melodious sound.

Max sometimes wished she could capture how she saw laughs, expressions, and even tears of those special to her. Maybe one day she could accurately portray these things in a photo, but for now, she just experienced it. She felt Chloe’s fingers brush against hers then intertwine.

“Come on, cloud child. Let's let Kate get back to work.” She squeezed Max’s hand lightly and nodded toward the double doors of the hospital.

“Kate, it was so good to…” Words escaped her finite grasp. Good to see you? Good to dump my emotional baggage on you? Good to bond over being kidnapped and displayed?

Maybe the clammy hands gave it away or maybe something on her face, and Chloe squeezed Max’s hand a little tighter and amended, “It's good to have someone else to trust.”

Max closed her dry mouth and nodded fervently.

A warm smile played on Kate's lips as her small form took on both Max and Chloe in a bear hug. “You can always trust me. With anything. And now I know that I can trust you both, too.” She finished squeezing the life out of them and stood back. “Drive safe, and get home before dark. It's supposed to storm tonight.”

Max smiled and found her tongue turned back from stone. “You too, Kate.”

The two walked hand in hand through the parking lot, the cold ripping through their clothes and stinging their exposed fingers. It remained quiet between them until they both shut the doors of the truck and Chloe started the engine.

“That went better than expected,” Chloe remarked as she reversed.

“Kate's good people,” Max shrugged and fiddled with the seatbelt absentmindedly. She was almost too nervous to talk to Chloe alone. Sometimes it got that way between them, especially when Max started being weird about her emotions and- No.

Chloe broke the silence. “You look like you have something on your mind. Feel free to chat. Or not.”

Max didn't say anything for a while, and Chloe lit a cigarette at a red light. She did that when she was trying to stay cool. She clenched the steering wheel a little too hard for Max not to notice. Again, Chloe was good, but she wasn't perfect. Sometimes Chloe rushed things, but Max understood that she could be difficult to help when she wasn't forthcoming. Max swallowed a little harder than she might have if she hadn't felt a little pressured to talk.

Chloe sighed. “It's either the storm coming, or you're stuck on the photo of me you found in Nathan's drawer. Lucky for you, your girlfriend knows exactly the cure.”

Max only partially forced a smile. The other part was natural. “Please don't say memes.”

Chloe feigned sorrow by clutching her chest with a pained expression. “Damn, Max, that is so hurtful.” Max snorted, and Chloe’s canines shone. “I mean, if you want memes, sure, but I was thinking more like cookie dough and Blade Runner.”

Max’s blood froze over. “I don't know how I feel about Blade Runner anymore,to be honest.”

“Is it the whole ‘me dying slowly and painfully while paralyzed’ thing?” Chloe's tone was light, but Max could tell she was being serious.

Max nodded.

“Well, I know it's… not good to remember, but maybe we can make new memories to replace the old ones.” She shrugged, and blue and blonde waterfall curls spilled over her shoulders. Her hair had gotten longer over the last two months; it was striking. She needed a haircut and color but refused to go.  

Max felt her tension ease as muted sunlight illuminated Chloe’s bright, hopeful eyes. “‘More human than human is our motto.’" She didn't dare speak another famous line.

_It's too bad she won't live, but then again, who does?_

She cringed again. Maybe making new memories with this would be good for her.  Besides, watching the movie itself wasn't so bad a memory.  It had been nice, in a way, if unbelievably bittersweet.  It was what had come after that Max could hardly bear thinking about. Even so, she wasn't sure she could handle the whole “lover on a timer" theme.

She sometimes worried that the universe was still trying to fuck with her by trying to take Chloe away somehow. She remembered the first weeks after the storm, when she had decided to move in with Joyce and Chloe, and how she couldn't be alone more than was absolutely necessary without losing her grip on reality. Chloe’s dead, sad eyes would come back to the forefront of her mind and send her reeling and running to puke in the school's bathroom stall. Her grades had suffered after the storm, and her attendance went south. School had been forgiving, at least. Teachers and students alike suffered after the storm and in the wake of Mark Jefferson. Teachers were overly lenient on the students, giving them extra time to finish assignments and incredible leeway on tests and quizzes, and some even offered extra credit for helping with the reconstruction efforts and publicity.

“Max, are you okay?”

Max looked up and around. They were at the store. Cold crept in through Chloe’s open door. When had they gotten there…? “Yeah, I just got a little lost in thought.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chloe climbed out of the truck and went around to open Max’s. She bent over and kissed Max lightly. “That was my chauffeur fee.”

Max found herself smiling and reached out to Chloe’s heart shaped face. “Oh, darn. I guess I owe you more.” They laughed as Chloe helped Max down. “I was just thinking about my grades this semester and how I'm glad it's over for a while.”

“School goes away and the Christmas cheer sets in.” She sighed and closed the door. “I still don't know what to get mom, and Christmas is just a few days from now.”

They walked into the store and mulled over gifts, but decided on a small sum of money from the both of them. For the Vacation Jar, of course. They laughed and elbowed each other all the way to the checkout line where a grumpy kid about their age rang them up. His soulless eyes told her that he was probably a college student just trying to get by.

“There’s going to be a snowstorm tonight, so be careful.”

Max flashed a smile at the kid. “I hope you can get off work before it gets too bad.”

The kid shrugged but nodded. Definitely a college student.

A gnawing feeling attacked Max’s insides as they left the store, and she turned to Chloe. “Should we call Joyce to let her know?”

“She already texted me to tell me to get home before it gets bad. She said she’s closing shop with Warren now and should be home in about thirty minutes, so she should be fine.” Chloe’s tone, while nonchalant, carried weariness and worry. Max guessed that after losing a parent to a car crash, she always worried about her mom getting home okay. “The thing is that David might be coming to the house to make sure he can help mom get out again when the snow clears. I’m not exactly happy about it, but at least he cares enough to try.”

Chloe started up the truck and, as if on reflex, held her hand out to Max who took it and laced their fingers together. It was easy between them. They rode home in silence and found Joyce struggling up the ramp, which had gone askew in the rising wind. Chloe bailed out of the truck and trotted over to help while Max reacted a little slower. Sometimes it felt like she was moving through syrup. She closed the truck door and walked over to help by opening the house door and carrying the tube of cookie dough.

“It’s mighty convenient that you girls showed up right when I needed you. It seems that you do that all the time.”

Max saw Chloe cringe as she did, too. “I guess we do,” Chloe grunted with another shove, freeing the wheelchair and Joyce from the split concrete that snared the wheel.

Max quickly changed the subject as Joyce scooted by. “Joyce, I thought I could make dinner for us all tonight.”

Chloe shot Max a questioning look, and Joyce waved her off.

“There's no need. David is staying through the storm to help out and…” She paused and turned into the kitchen. “Quite frankly, I didn't want him to have to be alone. I don't hate him, you know. He _is_ bringing Chinese takeout for dinner for all of us, and, Chloe, I'd like it if you didn't give him such a hard time. I know you've been better, but you still get so bitter sometimes.”

Max and Chloe wandered to the kitchen bar and propped on the two stools there. Chloe (somehow) loudly rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“I'll make sure she's on her best behavior,” Max beamed. Relief washed over her that she didn't have to cook. It had been a long enough day.

Max thought she saw a smirk from Joyce's half turned face on her thin lips. “You two just leave any amorous activities until he's gone.”

“ ** _MOM._** ” Chloe pulled her beanie down over her face and put her head in her hands. “Why would you kill me like this? Your only daughter?”

Max laughed but covered her mouth with the back of her hand. A heated blush crept its way onto her cheeks. They'd talked about it but not much else. “You won't have to worry about us.”

“Oh, I'm smart enough to know that you're both young and in love.” She folded her hands on her lap and smiled down at them. “I remember when William and I first started dating. No one could even get near us.” She shook her head, and her smile turned sad. “I guess it doesn't matter now, but you two should enjoy each other every minute you can… Just not around David. He doesn't know.” She paused. “Well, I didn't tell him.”

They all heard the door close, and Max nearly threw down Chloe’s hand. A grouchy voice from around the corner. “Tell who what?”

Joyce never missed a beat. “That you're a knight in shining armor for braving a storm to bring us wholesome, nutritious food from the far reaches of 4th Street.”

David bought it wholesale and smiled as he came into the kitchen and nestled plastic bags filled with yummy treats on the counter. Damn. She was good. He shrugged off his jacket and nodded at Max and Chloe.

“You two are never apart, are you?” It wasn't a calculating question, just an observation and peaceful opener.

Chloe fixed her beanie to cover her long roots. “We _are_ partners in crime.”

David quirked his head, but Max gave Chloe a fist bump and a smile. Tonight wasn't so bad.

 

It got worse.

Not immediately, of course. David went around and boarded up the busted windows while Chloe and Joyce shuffled around, placing gallons of water in easily accessible places in case the power went out - which it probably would. Chloe pulled out the emergency stash of chicken stock, poptarts, beer, and canned beans.

“My beans, Max,” she said, quite offhand.

Max couldn’t stifle the snort that made Joyce look up inquisitively, but she didn’t ask questions. She let the girls have their inside joke and left it at that.

Max felt useless, so she went and poked a fire to life and stood there a minute before deciding that going to the shed for firewood.

“That _wood_ be a good idea,” she mumbled to herself.

She opened the sliding door with a few more jerks than it usually would have taken. The house’s foundation shifted during October’s storm, which made the doors stick and need an extra shove to fully open. A part of her worried about the stray kitten she and Chloe had been seeing from time to time. She instantly regretting going outside. The wind had risen exponentially, and the first drifts of snow pelted her under-clothed body. The sky overhead was unnaturally dark for 5:30 in the afternoon. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees from the time she and Chloe had gotten home.

Her hands felt numb but not from the cold, the snow was freezing on her face. _Don’t forget me, Max._ The wind rushed by her like a tornado. Her head. Oh, god. Her head hurt so badly. Feeling too far from her body, she was only vaguely aware of herself reaching up with the back of her hand to touch under her nose. She felt like she could hear ticking from somewhere far away.

A hand on her shoulder. She jumped back, feeling herself snap back into her head like a rubber band. Her heart was racing, and sweat prickled under her arms and down her back despite the cold.

David stood there looking confused and… worried? “Are you feeling okay?”

Max responded quicker than she thought she could. She was getting okay at telling lies. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning, and I guess it just hit me again.” She wiped at her nose again. No blood. “I was going to get firewood and started feeling dizzy and sick.”

“You’re white as a sheet. Get inside before you pass out on the bricks. I’ll get firewood and stack some inside. Keep the fire going.”

She nodded and watched a second as he walked off. A shiver danced down her spine. She went back inside where she got a little too close to Chloe to be platonic. Her chill ran to her bones and through. Chloe seemed to sense something amiss and kept Joyce and David entertained through dinner.

Max excused herself after picking at her sweet and sour chicken and putting the rest in the fridge. Joyce told Max to go get a warm shower and she would make some ginger tea to settle her stomach for after. She graciously accepted and went for round two in the showers. Instead of actually showering, she just sat in the tub while the shower ran. She kept trying to think of things that didn’t hurt, but everything just seemed so cloying - the steam, the memories, the sensations. There was too much.

Just as her breathing started becoming erratic, she heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Are you alright?” Chloe. Her voice was quiet, but insistent.

Max didn’t answer. Her tongue felt sewn to the roof of her mouth.

“Max, I am going to break in there if you don’t answer me.”

She couldn’t move. Everything hurt. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream to be left alone. She wanted to scream for help. She wanted to scream into the void. If it would make her feel better, she wanted it. She didn’t _want_ to feel like this. She _wanted_ to be okay and normal, but she couldn’t even do that. She couldn’t even hold it together through dinner.

She heard the door latch click and Chloe came in unceremoniously. She didn’t say anything. She stood there a second, Max saw from the corner of her eye, and she undressed down to her underwear. She climbed in the shower and helped get the soap out of Max’s hair. She didn’t say anything. On some level, Max wished Chloe would yell at her. But she didn’t.

Max couldn’t really feel anything until Chloe touched her lightly. There wasn’t anything sexual about the way Chloe touched her, but it wasn’t clinical either. Once her chin length hair had been rinsed, Chloe shut off the water and stepped out of the shower for a second, only to wrap a warm fluffy towel around Max and help her stand. She couldn’t look Chloe in the eye. Like she might a child, she helped Max into some mismatched pajamas and got into her own.

Max tried to crack a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “That wasn’t the way I imagined our first time naked together would be.”

Chloe picked up on Max’s effort to be light and played along. “Well, for the record, you were the one that was naked. Not me.”

Max started feeling a little more like herself and blushed. “I’m… I’m back. Don’t worry.”

Chloe shrugged. “I’m going to worry. You’re my girlfriend.” She paused a minute. “And you’re my best friend.”

Max smiled more genuinely this time. “You’re mine, you know.”

Chloe stretched, her belly button showing from pulling up her shirt. Her exposed stomach and pretty little hip bones were all too nice. Max caught herself staring and blushed.

“Max Caulfield, you were checking me out. That is so fucking gay.”

Max rolled her eyes and padded out of the bathroom quietly, sneaking off to the room Chloe and Max shared with Chloe close behind. She yelped as Chloe pinched her butt and swatted her hand away. They giggled and got into Chloe’s room, where Chloe clicked the lock in place.

“I just get back from brain hell, and you’re pinching my butt,” Max sighed incredulously.

“You’re the horn dog who was checking me out in the bathroom.”

“Touche.”

They both fell into a fit of tired induced giggles, and Chloe pulled up her laptop to play the movie. A slightly sweaty cookie dough tube and a butter knife sat on the desk. Max crawled into bed, hearing the heater kick on again and the opening title play from Chloe’s laptop. Chloe made her way onto the bed and set the laptop on top of an old yearbook on the bed beside her, forcing Max to lean across her to see the movie. Chloe ran her fingers up and down Max’s back absentmindedly and quoted bits of the movie like a nerd.

They’d just gotten to the automaton owl portion when Max looked up at Chloe and saw her eyes tracking the motion of the film, completely engrossed.

“I went outside and felt… the storm happening again.”

Chloe’s eyes stopped tracking the motion of the figures and looked down at Max. “I know.” She didn’t say anything else and went back to tracking Harrison Ford running across the screen.

“I love you, Chloe.” Max tore her eyes away from the dimly lit face that turned back toward the screen then back to Max.

“Max?”

“Yeah, Chloe?” She looked back up to see Chloe’s eyes serious. “Are you alright?”

“You don't tell me things, Max. You don't tell me if you're okay. You don't tell me if you're bad. No, that's not right. You _always_ tell me you're okay even when you're not, and I don't know what to believe sometimes. I worry about you all the time, and I just don't know what to do.”

That must have been a long time coming. Neither of them moved. They scarcely breathed. The movie went on quietly as it had been.

Chloe broke the silence, but her voice was only barely louder than the movie. “Max, you've been so afraid of losing me that I don't think you know how afraid I am of losing you, and when you don't talk to me, all I can do is assume the worst.”

Max didn't say anything back, just let her mouth fall open and stay there.

“I love you more than the world, and I just want you to… come to me. Sometimes I worry you think that I'm too fragile to handle it or some bullshit.”

“Chloe, I-” Max swallowed and sat up. “I don't think that at all.”

“Then why won't you _talk_ to me?” She looked like she was either going to cry or yell.

“Honestly, Chloe?” Her throat felt dry. This wasn't exactly how she envisioned this night going.

“Please, Max.” It was a plea. Not a sarcastic, snarky go-ahead. A genuine plea.

“I… Sometimes don't know I need help. It either hits me so fast and hard that I never saw it coming, or I think I can handle it and then I realize too late that… I can't…”

Chloe’s face relaxed, brows unknitting. She leaned back against the wall and started watching the movie again, a little less interested than before.

Deckard and Rachael in the house together.

Max couldn't focus very well.

“Are you mad?” She finally asked.

Chloe leaned over and kissed her softly - hot, chapped lips on Max’s cold ones. The kiss was by no means chaste. It was… desperate - like Chloe was trying to tell Max that it was okay. That she wasn't mad, and there was nothing to apologize for so don't you dare. The kiss dragged on for a moment longer. Chloe pulled away first but not by far. Their heavy breaths mingled as the dialogue and music grew louder. Max stopped tracking the plot. She leaned in to bring Chloe’s face back to hers. Chloe didn't resist.

Hands twined in hair. Bodies pressed close. The covers had long since been kicked off. Max sat on Chloe’s lap, heart beating fast. She could feel Chloe’s heart racing underneath her dumb band shirt. Chloe’s warm, sure hands settled on Max’s waist, and the two looked each other dead in the eye. This was as far as they'd ever gotten - flustered, tired, and nervous with one of them on the other's lap, hands roaming bodies or locked together in a tight embrace. That was alright for them. Neither was really ready for anything else.

Max felt a bit lightheaded from so many kisses and so much heavy breathing. She felt her face and chest continue being hot and, probably, bright red. Chloe’s cheeks settled into a baby pink, visible even in the dim light of the laptop. Max rolled off Chloe’s lap, and Chloe pulled the covers back on the bed. She pulled Max to lay on her chest and left her hand firmly on Max’s Right Boob.

“Babe, I'm grabbin your heart.”

Max rolled her eyes but looked up at Chloe, making no attempt to remove her hand. What? It isn't like she was opposed to a little pre, during, and post makeout groping. “That's my right boob, though.”

Chloe laughed and stroked Max’s hair with her free hand. “Babe.”

 

 


	7. Sedona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No illustration this week. Sid's been really busy and just hasn't had the time to work it in. Sorry, folks. 
> 
> Max's character was inspired by mollifiable on tumblr, who does some cute World of Warcraft AU stuff. 
> 
> As always, we really appreciate comments! Your feedback always means the most to us.

"And that brings you down to zero hit points.  Roll your death save."

"What?  No, that's bullshit!  We can't even see your dice behind that stupid cardboard piece of crap!"  Chloe lunged across the table at Warren, grabbing for the DM screen separating him from the rest of the group.  

Warren flailed and jumped backward, nearly tipping over his chair.  "I just roll the dice!  I wouldn't lie about it!"  He accidentally swatted the screen with his prosthetic, sending it skidding across the table, bowling over miniatures with reckless abandon as it went.  

The two d6s, now visible, read six and six, just the way he'd said.

Chloe slowed to a halt, and her eyes narrowed.  "You could have moved them before I looked."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that you were going to jump me?"

Max sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.  "Chloe..."  Half of her wanted to burst out laughing, and the other half wanted to cuff Chloe upside the head.  It had been such a struggle to get Chloe involved in the game, but now that she was here, it was a little disturbing how into it she got.  Sometimes even Max couldn't tell how deep her rage ran.

"This is not how Thorg the Ripped dies!"  Chloe hit the table with her fist.  The large bowl of Doritos in the center of the table wobbled dangerously.  She’d refused to take it seriously at first, as evidenced by her stupid character, but over time she’d gotten… attached.

"Chloe, he isn't dead yet.  Death saves, remember?"  Max slapped her upside the head and reached out to take her hand.  She tugged playfully.

Chloe looked at her blankly.

"Death saves!"  Warren piped up.  "You have to roll above a ten three times before you roll under a ten three times.  Don't you remember?  Max got beat up the first session by those bird guys you all pissed off, and she had to do that."

Chloe blinked at him.  "Yeah.  Of course.  I know that."  She sat back down, doing a fairly credible impression of a person who hadn’t just lost their shit.

Max rolled her eyes.  "I'm standing right there, bonehead.  I can just heal you, and you can stand right back up and keep hitting things."  Max’s character was an elven druid named Aldrea.  She figured that Chloe called her a hippie enough that she might as well play into the stereotype, and they _did_ need a healer.  

Chloe cleared her throat as if she had something to say, but finally just looked down at the table, her face vaguely embarrassed.  

Max glanced around the table.

Warren was looking back and forth between the two of them as if deciding whether or not he needed to start running for his life. Chloe did this often and, at one point, had tried to beat up Warren with his own prosthetic. Brooke had nearly eviscerated Chloe for messing around with the 3D printed masterpiece.

Daniel was drawing furiously, deep in that weird artistic trance he went into whenever he was creating.  Max couldn't see what the subject was and gave it even odds that he wouldn’t let anyone but Brooke see.

Brooke held Warren's hand under the table, one of her eyebrows quirked.  "You all done?" she asked, her voice dry as a desert plain.  Brooke played as a chaotic neutral warlock, a human who had gone too far in the search for knowledge.  She didn’t quite minmax her character to the limit, but she was definitely the one who paid most attention to stats and numbers.  

Chloe grumbled something under her breath.  

Max leaned in and pressed a playful kiss to Chloe's cheek, which immediately turned pink.  "Just roll the damn d20."

Still muttering, Chloe picked up the die and let it roll.  It came up with a 7.

"Congrats," said Warren, "you're one step closer to death.  You see a bright light at the end of the tunnel.  2d6 angels are smiling and waving in the light.  It's very sad."

Chloe shot him a glare that could have withered steel.

Warren chose to ignore it.  "Max, you're up."

Max smiled sweetly.  "I cast cure wounds on Thorg.  He heals-" She rolled - "nine hit points."

Warren nodded, putting the screen back up and taking cover behind it as though from enemy fire.  "Okay, Thorg, you're back on your feet, but you're still surrounded by scarecrows.  One of them does this," he reached out with both hands in a grabby motion, "and goes _good, toy is not broken yet,_ " he finished in a high, reedy whisper.  

"Creepy fucking things," Chloe said.  "Why are we fighting these assholes again?"

Max nudged her and said, with a solemn expression, "Because it was your magnificent, sage idea to break into the castle without asking around to see if it was haunted or cursed first."

"I told you we should have put in some reconnaissance first," Brooke put in helpfully.  "We always do this."

"Well how was I supposed to know the guy used these fuckin' things as guards?" Chloe protested.

"You're only proving my point," Brooke replied.  "And there was that gross dude in the graveyard, remember?  The one that kept talking about blood and straw."

The two of them clashed a lot, Chloe and Brooke, but it was surprisingly good natured. They bickered, but more like siblings than enemies - to the point where Chloe got along with her better than anyone else at the table, except for Max.  They'd become fast friends after Chloe had borrowed Brooke's drone - with Max's support - and used it to divebomb Warren.

"I foreshadowed it a ton," Warren said.  "It's not my fault if you didn't pay attention to my carefully laid clues."

Chloe stuck her tongue out at him.  

Warren laughed.  "Maybe we should take a break.  It's about nine," he said.  "Get some snacks, cool down.  We can finish this combat after."

"Sounds like a good idea," Max broke in before Chloe could respond.  

Chloe shrugged and threw five bucks at Warren. “Go get me a snack for trying to kill me.”

Brooke immediately took out her phone and started tapping away, while Warren toddled off to get himself something to drink.  Daniel kept right on sketching.

Max leaned over and put her head on her girlfriend's shoulder and closed her eyes.  "I thought Dungeons and Dragons was nerd shit," she said teasingly.

Max could almost hear the grudging blush in Chloe's voice.  "It's fun."

"Is it?  You were getting _really_ into it there."

"Yeah!  I just thought he could use a good scare.  I was only a little pissed off."

Max smiled.  "A little?" she asked dryly.

"Okay, I didn't want Thorg to die. I like playing as Thorg. Even if he died, I would just make a Thorg II who would be even worse than version one Thorg. That what you want to hear?"

"It's good to know you're really just a big stupid buff Orc on the inside."

" _Half_ -Orc."  Chloe took on a gruff voice.  "Thorg proud of his heritage."

Max snorted.  "Okay, there is no way Thorg knows what the word _heritage_ means."

"Thorg have hidden depths," Chloe growled playfully.  "Thorg secretly genius."

"Thorg not get ladies with attitude like that," Max mimicked, then laughed and leaned up to press a kiss to Chloe's lips.

Chloe laughed softly, their breath mingling, and returned the kiss. Soft. Gentle.  Warm.

Brooke rolled her eyes and stood, slipping her phone into the pocket of her hoodie.  She walked around the table to stand beside Daniel's shoulder and leaned in to talk to him, actually smiling a little.  She didn't usually smile much, unless it was with Warren or Daniel. It wasn’t that she was a cold person. She was just a little withdrawn.

Daniel brightened and said something in return, proudly setting his pencil down and showing her his drawing.  

Brooke laughed quietly, reaching out to point at something on the page and saying something else.

There was nothing romantic there.  They'd bonded at the final Vortex Club party, and had grown very close in the time since.  Brooke was faithful to Warren, and Daniel didn't really seem interested in anyone that way, of any gender really.  He just called her his new muse, and Max thought the friendship was good for them both.

Max and Chloe were still quietly smooching when a wolf-whistle came from the doorway.  "I usually have to pay for entertainment that good," called Warren.

Max and Chloe broke apart a little quicker than they would have otherwise, and Max felt her cheeks go pink.  Warren was a good guy, but sometimes he didn't really have much of an idea of _boundaries_ when it came to humor.  "It's 2013," she retorted.  "Who _pays_ for that stuff in 2013?"

Chloe looked a little grumpy, though whether from the interruption or the joke, Max wasn't sure. It was probably both, but sometimes Warren’s jokes got under her skin. "Not cool, man."

Warren raised his hand as he sat down, a glass of what looked like Coke tucked in the crook of his good arm.  "Yeah, not my finest moment. Dick move. Sorry." His tone, though aloof, was genuine. He looked down as he sat, setting the glass onto the table, and started scribbling something behind his screen.

Max felt Chloe groping for her hand under the table, and she entwined their fingers.  "Hey, Daniel!" she said, eager to change the subject.  "What're you drawing?"

Daniel looked up, and his chubby face broke into a bright smile.  "Ah, Max!" he said, as if he'd only just realized that she was there.  "It is just a little sketch, and it is nowhere near done. I honestly don’t know if I will finish, but it is for fun."  Daniel came almost every week, but he never paid much attention when the group was in combat.  His character was a charming halfling bard, who contributed almost nothing to fights.  He was a charismatic little runt, though, and he often ended up being the face of the party when anything other than smashy-smashy was called for.

Brooke nudged him.  "I think you should show them.  They'll like it, and it'll make you happy. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Share your stuff."

Daniel looked down at the sketchbook, and his brow furrowed.  He studied it silently for a moment, then nodded.  "Ah, yes, you are probably right."  His faintly accented voice was, if not _confident_ , at least more assertive than it had been when Max had first met him.  He was still bullied by his fellow students, but his friendship with Brooke and Warren had done wonders for his self-esteem.  

He lifted the sketchbook and flipped it around to show Max and Chloe.  

It was still a rough sketch, little more than rough shapes and silhouettes, but there was real life to it.  Movement.  Two figures that looked like Max and Chloe sat behind a table.  They were holding hands, and the taller figure - Chloe - appeared to be banging her fist on the table, yelling.  Beside her, the Max doodle was covering her mouth, clearly stifling a giggle.  Dice and assorted detritus littered the surface of the table before them. Was that a dorito?

"Do you like it?  It isn't finished," Daniel repeated.  "It's hardly my best work, but-"

"I love it!" Max exclaimed.  She really did.  A warm, happy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she took in the sketch.  Unfinished or not, he'd captured her and Chloe perfectly.  

Chloe leaned in to look as well, and her face broke into a smile.  "Nice one, Danny-boy.  Don't sell yourself short, man, you're good at this."  Chloe and Daniel weren't as close as Daniel and Brooke, but after the first couple sessions of this group, Chloe seemed to have adopted him as a kind of surrogate son.  She was encouraging and protective, and had beaten up at least one person for fucking with him. She didn't tease him much at all, the way she did Warren, or even Max.  It was kind of sweet, Max thought.  It wasn't often that Chloe got maternal. Besides, they bonded over understanding art, even though Chloe had a limited knowledge of traditional art forms. "Thanks for sharing!"

Daniel puffed up a little, looking proud.  "You are too kind.  Maybe once it is finished, I will give it to you, yes?"

Max nodded, grinning.  "We'll put it up on our wall.  We'd be happy to have another Daniel DaCosta original."

Brooke was smiling too, and she gave Daniel's shoulder a little squeeze before returning to her own chair, next to Warren.  With one hand, she tapped away at her phone; with the other, she reached out to Warren without looking, simply holding her hand in the air until Warren finally noticed long enough to take it in his.

He leaned over to give her a short kiss, then let go to fiddle with his prosthetic.  After a few moments, he managed to disconnect the thing, then held it up.  "Anyone need a hand?"  He looked around the room expectantly.

Max and Chloe just looked at him.  Daniel laughed as if it was the first time he'd ever heard Warren make that joke.  Brooke rolled her eyes and punched his good arm.

"Ow!"  Warren swatted at her with the plastic hand.  

Brooke snatched the prosthetic away from him, as easily as if he were a child.  "Shouldn't you be wearing this?"  She said it casually, but there was a quiet edge of concern in her voice.  Brooke wasn't big on public displays of affection, but it was obvious to anyone who spent more than a few minutes around the couple that she really did care very deeply.  She just wasn't great at showing it.

Warren shrugged uncomfortably.  "It was getting itchy.  You know.  Wearing it too long makes it hurt, still."  Max could see the stump was red and slightly inflamed, irritated by the constant pressure and friction of the prosthetic.  "My stump needs to breathe."

Brooke rolled her eyes but nodded slowly, then set the hand down carefully in front of her.  "Is it bad?  Do you want to take something?"

Warren shook his head.  "Nah.  I'm tough, I can take it."

Brooke rolled her eyes, but she smiled.  "Alright, Tarzan.  Just don't hurt yourself."

Warren lifted the stump and waved it through the air a couple times, stretching the remaining muscles in that arm.  "I'm good, baby.  Just a little sore."

"Okay." Brooke nodded, reaching out to touch his cheek gently.  "Just let me know if you need anything, alright?  You big baby," she added, as if she'd realized that the moment was getting dangerously close to saccharine.

Even that was a big change from when they'd started.  It had taken a good amount of effort to get Brooke involved in the weekly D&D sessions, and she'd been very quiet for the first week or two.  One on one, she didn't have much trouble, but when you got her in a crowd, she tended to stay back and blend in, not drawing much attention to herself.  She could also only take so much socialization at a time; she'd missed sessions because she was recovering from family events or other social obligations. Everyone understood that need. Max had needed nights off, too.

Max was happy she was here, though.  She was good for Warren, and he was good for her.  He pushed her to get out of her shell more, and she kept him more grounded than he might otherwise be.

They'd really bonded in the hospital, after the storm. Maybe she’d been the one that printed Warren’s prosthetic by raising funds and using her own money.

She glanced over at Chloe and smiled.  

Chloe blinked, then grinned back.  "What're you thinkin' about?" She asked quietly while the other couple continued to talk.

Max shrugged, then put her head back onto her girlfriend's shoulder.  "Nothin'.  I'm just... happy.  I'm glad we do this.  All of us."

A cool hand reached up to run through Max's hair.  "Yeah.  Me too.  It's fun."  She quietly pressed a kiss onto the top of Max's head.  "Sorry if I got a little... intense."

Max snorted.  "It wouldn't be D&D without you flipping the table at least once.  It's practically a tradition at this point."

“We take our traditions very seriously,” Brooke quipped with a small smile.

"As long as this one doesn't end with me losing another _hand,_ " Warren protested with a grin, raising his stump and waving it in front of her.  "I don't exactly have a lot of those to spare these days."

Chloe looked like she was at a loss as to how to respond; Warren joking about his missing hand tended to do that to people.  

It made Max a little uncomfortable too, not least because she was fairly sure that the loss had hurt him a lot more deeply than he let on.  He tried very hard to come across like he was okay with it.

"Do not worry," Daniel piped in, looking up from the drawing.  "If there is a problem with your other hand, I will design another that is even better than the original.  Brooke will print it out for you.  It will be breathtaking."  He went back to sketching.

Warren laughed, flipping Daniel off with his good hand.  "Hey, thanks, but I'm good.  One Darth Vader hand is good for me.  I saw Star Wars, I know what happens when you let yourself become too much of a machine."

"Luke had a mechanical hand," Brooke put in.  "It wasn't robotics that made Darth Vader evil.  That had more to do with him killing all those kids, I think."  She smirked a little, looking down at her phone.  "Just a thought."

Warren rolled his eyes.  "Fine, fine.  Next limb I lose is all yours."

Brooke nodded as though she had just won some sort of competition.

"For what it is worth," said Daniel, "I for one hope that you do not lose anything else.  We all like you just the way you are."

Warren blinked.  "Uh, thanks, Daniel. I wasn't planning on it."

"Good."

Max's phone buzzed on the table, and she picked it up while the others continued their good natured bickering.

It was a picture of a floofy black and white rabbit sitting on a desk wearing a little pirate hat, looking particularly unfazed.  Something that looked like a little cardboard cutlass leaned against its side..  It was accompanied by a text reading **[12/19 9:16 Help!  Alice is out of control! :)]**

Max chuckled.  Kate really was too cute for this world.  She raised her phone to take a very serious selfie, then used an app to scribble a rough eyepatch onto her face. **[12/19 9:17 dont worry kate!  captain caulfield is on the case!  XO]**

Chloe poked her head over Max's shoulder, peeking at the phone.  "What's up?"

Max rolled her eyes, placed her hand gently on Chloe's face, and pushed her away.  "Just Kate being cute.  Don't worry about it.  No crisis here."

Chloe looked as though she wanted to know more, but nodded and let it be.  She'd gotten a lot better about Max interacting with other people who weren't her, but it still seemed to bother her a little sometimes.  

Max didn't blame her.  Chloe had been through a lot, too.  She'd lost so much, and Max couldn't let herself forget that she wasn't the only one with psychological scars to deal with.  They were all still learning to cope.

"Trouble in paradise?" Warren snarked, leaning in for juicy gossip.  

Max threw a d6 at him.  It bounced off his head with a quiet thok.  "Mind your own business."

Warren rubbed at his head where the die had hit.  "Ow.  After all I do for you guys, this is the thanks I get?"

She blew a raspberry at him.  "Shut up and DM, nerd boy."

The phone vibrated again.  No picture this time, just a message.   **[12/19 9:21 I’m being silly, but Max, I’m so happy you were able to share with me.  If you ever need anything, please let me know.  You’re my best friend and I’m here for you.  I know things are hard sometimes, but you’re in my prayers.  Whether you want to be or not.  :)]**

Max smiled down at her phone.   **[12/19 9:22 anytime kate!  it means a lot to me and ill definitely come to you again.  whether YOU want it or not.  i’m with the dnd kids though, ill write you in a couple hours! love you maxoxo]**  Kate was such a sweet person.  She deserved better than the hand she’d been dealt.

**[12/19 9:23 I’ll probably be asleep, but u have fun!  Don’t let that evil roleplaying tempt you down a path of sin.  ;)  We can talk tomorrow.  We still need to set up our next tea date!]**

Max set her phone onto the table, and was immediately greeted by a nudge from Chloe.  “Welcome back to the real world, Max.”

Max rolled her eyes and planted a quick kiss on Chloe’s lips.  “Sorry, it’s my generation.  Kids these days, you know.”

“Damn straight.  Now are we gonna play, or what?”

“Don’t rush me.  Next time, I might just let Thorg die after all.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

They all laughed.  Max grinned.  “Alright, then.  Who’s turn is it, Brooke?”

Brooke nodded.  “Yeah.  Now let’s fry some of these dipshits.”   She cracked her knuckles as if she were the one who was about to unleash a powerful eldritch magical attack, not her character.  She adjusted her glasses, paged through her handbook for a moment, and began describing the spell she was going to cast, complete with arm waving.     
Brooke could get… kind of intense.

It was good, though, Max thought.  This group.  It was good for all of them.  None of them were exactly social butterflies most of the time, but these few hours every week were perfect for just cutting loose, unwinding, and having a good time.

Max hoped they would never end.  They were one of the only times that she felt… well, normal.  It was a good feeling.

Maybe one day, it would last. 


	8. Ditmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Life Goes On! As always, thanks for reading, and we really appreciate comments and feedback.

At 9:45 the next morning, distant buzzing brought Max from fitful sleep to consciousness. The night before hadn't been too hard, at least. Max and Chloe had stayed up late into the night, talking about lighthearted things and laughing. She glanced at her continuously buzzing phone with sleepy eyes. Victoria? Weird.

**[12/20 8:33 Max. Come 2 the gallery. ]**

**[ 12/20 9:01 Maxine. Gallery. ]**

**[12/20 9:44 MISSED CALL]**

**[12/20 9:46 MAX COME 2 THE GALLERY U CAN BRING UR BITCH ASS GF JUST HURRY UP GDI ]**

Max snorted a little and shifted Chloe a little to wake her with some protest. Chloe got the hint and started moving. “One day, you're gonna wake me up with breakfast in bed and flowers instead of an elbow to the kidney.”

“Oh, shut up and get dressed. We need to meet Victoria at the gallery, apparently.” Max stretched her sleepy muscles and arched off the mattress with a yawn.

Chloe, already out of bed, stared at Max’s form. “Uh, alright.”

Max threw a nearby pen. “Shut up, horn dog. I had a shower last night.”

Chloe dodged and smiled her brand famous smile, holding a wad of clothes in her hands. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Max nodded and picked up her phone again. Chilly air seeped through the window seal and board with plastic, but that was alright. Warm socks and loose pajamas were the cure. She slid the lock screen picture of her and Chloe laying in bed off to the side and typed in the password - Chloe’s birthday. She clicked around, attended to other extraneous notifications, and opened a picture message from Brooke - all of them genuinely smiling together Friday night.

She felt herself smiling and saved the photo before going and responding to Victoria's urgent messages.

**[ 12/20 9:50 sorry vic. just woke up uwu ]**

**[ 12/20 9:51 we'll be there as soon as we can!!! <3 ]**

A minute passed with the background music of the pipes creaking from heating. The creaks in the house comforted Max now, unlike when she first moved in. Every groan sent her back to hearing the storm rip apart the town, but eventually, Chloe helped her remember how it creaked in their childhood and helped replace the bad memories with good.

Max continued laying in bed thinking for a moment before stretching again and preparing her sockless feet for the cold floorboards. Chloe would only take a second. Max rolled out of bed with a grunt, dug around beside the bed for a comb, and combed through her hair with the purple, gel handled brush. The dry air made her hair crackle with static, and she decided to hide her heinous bedhead under the guise of a put-together ponytail. She shrugged out of her oversized shirt and pulled on an equally large pixel heart sweater when her phone buzzed twice again.

**[ 12/20 9:56 HURRY UR ASS ]**

**[ 12/20 9:56 But be safe. The roads are icy. ]**

Max shot back a quick response. **[ 12/20 9:56 o7 ]** A little salute.

She had just pulled on her pants and started to button when Chloe walked in looking like she'd chosen her clothes for the crowd. “You look… Neat.”

“How eloquent."  Chloe snorted and rolled her eyes as Max buttoned the top button. “Victoria wanted us there soon, presumably, so we should go. We can eat brunch or lunch or elevensies or whatever the fuck when we get back.”

The two left, scraping off the snow from the porch and David's fortified ramp, and climbed into Chloe’s beat up pickup. Chloe cranked the truck and blasted the heater, presumably because of her thin shirt, useless vest, and the piles of snow everywhere. Max took it upon herself to DJ and clicked on some tunes that weren't too sad.

Chloe nodded along. The music wasn't exactly what Chloe usually listened to, but she enjoyed it nevertheless. Something about the contrast between the current acoustic indie hell and the clanging music Chloe most often listened to said so much about her personality. Chloe's spirit naturally floated down the path of least resistance, but she most often made things difficult for herself - Max wouldn't deny that. Sometimes Max wondered if Chloe chose a harder path as her own personal penance.

“Max, what are you thinking about?” Chloe’s voice seemed a little tense.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

Chloe grunted. Not a surprising response. Nervous tension in her shoulders somehow caused her tongue not to work and her words to be nothing but grunts.

A moment passed where the only sounds were a quiet acoustic riff from the speakers and the sound of the road, loud in the beat up vehicle.

“What do you think Victoria wants?”

Max shrugged but said, “Probably something to do with the reconstruction project. I wouldn't worry about it.”

Chloe was obviously worrying about it. She chewed on her lower lip and ran a hand through her faded hair.

“What is it, Chloe?”

“Honestly, Max? I’m worried about her being a little snake and taking credit for your work. I don’t care if you guys kissed and made up or whatever.” She paused, rethinking her last sentence. “Well, if you kissed, I would care for an entirely different reason.”

Max elbowed Chloe again, taking her hand and resting it on the seat between them. “You don’t have to worry about that. Victoria can be mean and cruel to those that stand in her way, but when there’s good work, she doesn’t fuck around. She gives credit when credit’s due.”

Chloe grumbled again, but Max’s words were enough to placate her for the moment. She wondered if her friendships upset Chloe sometimes. Chloe spoke again, surprising Max a little. “I don't know if I trust her.” She paused. “I don’t want her to hurt you.”

Max’s phone buzzed impatiently once more, and she released Chloe’s hand to check it.

**[12/20 10:21 how far are u?]**

Max rolled her eyes and shot off a quick **[12/20 10:22 should be there in less than five! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ]**

Victoria: **[12/20 10:22 u better not be texting and driving. see u in a few.]**

    Chloe grunted again. Max didn’t speak grunt-and-mumble fluently, but she could tell what that meant. _What does she want, now?_

    “She was just asking how long it would be.” Max offered her hand back.

    “Since when are you guys so chummy?” Chloe didn’t accept Max’s hand. “Why couldn’t she bother someone else?”

    “Chloe, why are you worried about this?” Max rubbed her eyes and pried Chloe’s hand off the steering wheel and held it fast. “There’s nothing going on between me and Victoria, okay?”

    “You just suddenly start being best buds with her, and I don’t really know what to expect, okay?” Chloe took the turn into the gallery’s parking lot a little too hard.

    “Victoria called me flat ass drunk and apologized for being a dick, Chlo. She isn’t trying to get in my pants. She just needs a photographer for the reconstruction exhibit, and I mean, if it makes you feel better, almost everyone at Blackwell is chipping in to help. Without her influence, we wouldn’t get half the publicity and help from other towns and relief efforts.” Max fiddled absentmindedly with her phone while applying the death grip on Chloe’s hand. “I’d like to be better friends with her, and if this is the way, then so be it.”

    Tension eased out of Chloe’s shoulders as she parked the truck. “I… I trust you, Max. Just try not to get hurt, okay?”

    Max eased up her grip and leaned forward to Chloe. “How can I get hurt when my knight in shining armor is here?”

    Chloe smiled slightly and cut the engine before leaning over to Max. “I prefer something like your Dark Knight. I’m far from shining.”

    Max kissed her. Lightly but reassuringly.

    Love turned out to be give and take. Sometimes, one person took from the reservoir one day, the other could take another day. Sometimes both could take at the same time, but there was always giving. Giving support and care. And… Love. Sometimes it was hard to do things by themselves. Together… Together it was easier. Max knew that, and as far as she knew, so did Chloe - even if it was hard for them both.

    Chloe squeezed Max’s hand, looking a little brighter than before. “Sometimes, it can be tough, you know?”

    “Boy, do I.” Max snorted and popped the latch on the truck’s door.

    Chloe’s smile faltered just slightly, Max noted, but that would be something for another time. Right now, they needed to satiate Victoria, the angry beast.

 

    Max always felt slightly dazzled walking into the Chase’s gallery. The white walls lined with such beautiful paintings and photographs… She muttered, “Wowser” quietly under her breath and subconsciously reached for Chloe’s hand. She just wanted to share the wonder and admiration she felt so desperately. And, holy shit, she would be featured here. _Soon_. As a large part of The Arcadia Bay Reconstruction Effort Exhibit. Well, that was the name in progress. Victoria said it was too lengthy and should be shortened down.

“Imagine it, Chloe. One day soon, Blackwell’s finest will be in this gallery, and I'll be here too.”

Only from the corner of her star spangled eyes did she see Chloe give a sad smile. “You're Arcadia Bay’s finest, Max. Oregon's. The world's finest.”

Max turned to Chloe and sheepishly tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. She started a little when Chloe’s warm, soft, vibrant lips touched hers. Cherry lip gloss? Nah, Chapstick. Chloe was too practical for lip gloss. She subconsciously reached to touch her fingertips to Chloe’s wind-chapped cheek.

Chloe pulled back when the clack-thump of boots on tile drew near.

    “ _Finally_!” A higher voice with an annoyed edge filled the foyer. “You took long enough.”

    Max, disappointed in Chloe's withdrawal, looked up to the second platform and found no disappointment there. Her jaw dropped open slightly. Victoria always looked good, but she looked… _really_ good. The midnight blue she wore was a very good color on her - accentuated her eyes, hair, and pale skin. Chloe shifted uncomfortably, and Max felt Chloe’s hand get clammy. She was nervous. Pretty girls always made Chloe nervous.

    “I see you brought your junkyard dog with you.” Victoria leaned on the steel-and-glass railing, letting her particular position provide perfect fanservice through the glass were it cooler weather. The dress she wore - though short - layered over grey leggings.

    Max felt Chloe turn slightly to the side and mumbled, “Yeah, this dog is one that bites, though.”

    Max squeezed Chloe’s clammy hand. “Hey, Victoria. I wasn’t even awake when you sent the first few messages. Or called.”

    “Obviously. Now, come up here. I want to talk to you about the reconstruction exhibit.” She walked off, leaving Max and Chloe to climb the stairs to follow. “And I know my ass is fab, but stop staring.”

    “Max, I… Think I’m going to wait in the car.” Chloe blew out a breath and had started fidgeting. She needed a smoke, obviously.

    “Listen, if you need to go smoke, go ahead, but please come back in after.” Her voice was soft, but honestly, she was worried. She didn’t exactly want Chloe to go out and smoke, especially after she talked about wanting to quit, but she tried to understand that every day was a victory and every day came a little closer to her quitting.

    Chloe leaned in and gave Max a more chaste kiss than before. “I’ll... manage without. Let’s just… Do what we need to do.”

    Max nodded and pulled Chloe along up the stairs and to where Victoria stood in front of a collage showing Arcadia Bay as it was before. They were all Victoria’s pictures. Honestly, Max often couldn’t argue with how well Victoria could position and capture a shot. No wonder Je- _Stop there, Max._ -fferson liked her.

    Well, shit.

She started sweating in the large sweater and wished she’d worn a tanktop underneath. She couldn’t stop him from creeping into her thoughts. He’d always be there. He'd be right there behind every corner in any gallery. He made sure Max never took another selfie - even her lock screen came from Chloe’s phone camera.

Chloe felt Max tense and squeezed her hand softly. Victoria didn’t seem to notice. “Max, I want you to do a companion piece to this.”

Max choked on her own spit and coughed until she was red in the face. “You want me to _what_???”

“You heard me, Caulfield. I want you to do your own companion piece to my pre-storm Arcadia Bay.” She shrugged, as if she hadn’t heard Max’s outcry and choking. “You have a way with lighting that I like, and I feel like it would be invaluable to the exhibit. Daniel can do his drawings and whatever he does.” She shuffled. “I figure Kate would want to contribute, too, but I don’t know how to approach her.”

    Chloe nodded a moment, the wheels turning behind her eyes. “We can talk to Kate for you, or at least get you guys together to talk.”

    Max looked up at her with a look that said, _Seriously?_

Chloe looked down at her with a tense smirk that said, in response, _Seriously_.

    Victoria turned from them to look at her own collage. She seemed very very interested in her own work, all of a sudden.

    “Yeah,” Max agreed. “We can get something arranged with Kate. Maybe Brooke can help get the word out with some graphic design or something?”

    Victoria pulled out her phone and started tapping away, presumably texting Brooke. “It’s done,” she affirmed. “You get Kate on board, and I'll handle the rest.”

    She eyed Chloe again, scanning her from her shoes up. “I don’t know what you could contribute other than your... distinctive... weed stink, but if you can find something useful, you’re welcome to try.”

    Chloe’s eyes darkened, and she abruptly announced, “I have to piss.”

    She dropped Max’s hand and walked off, leaving Max and Victoria together.

    Max nervously pushed her hair back before remembering it was held fast in her ponytail. “Victoria… Could you try to be nicer to Chloe? It's pretty lame to treat her like that. She doesn't deserve it.”

Victoria grumbled and folded her arms on her chest. “She makes me nervous, Max.”

“Then talk less. You have less of an opportunity to be a bitch.”

“Fair enough, Maxi Pad.”

Max grimaced. Of course, Victoria would never let Max go unscathed.  Even after they'd had a potential breakthrough at the Vortex Club party, Victoria had only put up more walls between them.  They'd come within a stone's throw of being friends more than once since then, but it always ended the same way. “If I'm not mistaken, this time it was _your_ idea to try being friends.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “ _This_ time?”

Max felt herself begin to sweat more heavily and wished she'd applied more deodorant. “It doesn't matter,” she amended. “All that matters is you treat Chloe like you would treat me.”

“Like she even deserves to be treated like a _second rate photographer_ ,” Victoria sneered.

She was **not** making things easy on the whole friendship front.

Max put her hands up and looked over toward the bathroom, from which Chloe had not come back. “Listen, Victoria, I don’t want to fight. I just want to be friends, but it’s a little hard when you treat my girlfriend like shit, okay? I want to help with the reconstruction as much as anyone, and I want to help you, but you have _got_ to be a little nicer.  If you alienate Chloe, you alienate me.” She hadn’t realized she’d stepped up to get in Victoria’s face, fists balled at her sides. She was ready to go if things got physical. “You’re too damn insecure to let Chloe even have the slightest bit of confidence around you, and it needs to stop. She even offered to talk to Kate because you’re too chickenshit to do it yourself, and you _still_ treat her like shit. Just because she isn’t you doesn’t mean she’s any **less** than you, alright?”

Victoria took a step back and looked appalled and… hurt? Jesus, Max, way to be horrible to someone who wants to be your friend. No. No apologies. Chloe had been put through enough.

“Max, I-” She swallowed and rubbed at her collarbone. “I’ll back off.”

The fire that sparked in her hadn’t left. “Think about it. I’m going to get her, and you’re going to be on your best damn behavior when we get back.”

She didn’t look back to see whether or not Victoria acknowledged her statement. Chloe would always be her top priority.

What she found in the bathroom didn’t exactly inspire compassion toward Victoria. Chloe sat on the pristine, stylish floor of the bathroom, head in her hands and rocking back and forth ever so slightly. Her face was pale and her eyes glassy. She didn’t look like she’d been crying - her face would have been splotchy red and under her eyes would have been swollen. She looked… how Max knew she looked when she was in Max-patented Brain Hell. She actually had no idea what to do, so she sat beside Chloe and touched her shoulder experimentally. Chloe flinched away and looked at Max like a trapped animal.

Max quietly muttered, “Chloe…?”

Chloe’s eyes slid away from Max’s and focused on nothing in particular. “Leave me alone, Max.”

Max flinched away and started to scoot away from Chloe a little. Chloe looked back at her angrily. “How long have you been letting her talk about me behind my back?”

“What? Chloe? What are you talking about?” Max recoiled and felt her mouth run dry.

“I always knew she was horrible. Of course, I’ll never be able to break into this arena, but she didn’t have to point it out. I don’t fit with you goddamn artist types. I don’t fit in with anyone. It's more clear by the day of _that_ fact. She's probably been talking about me since Rachel.” She scratched at her wrist and forearm. “Fuck, I just _wanted_ to fit with Rachel, but I never belonged anywhere with her either. She had all this and you do, too. I'll just never fit in this fucking hell of Arcadia Fucking Bay. Hell, it didn't even want me. It only wanted me one fucking way - dead, Max. You stopped it, and I'm just pissing life away still I-” She broke off, burying her face in her hands and shuddering in a form of dry, silent sob.

“Chloe…” She didn’t exactly know what to say.

“Forget it.” Chloe shook her head. “I need to shut the fuck up. We have a job to do.”

Max hesitated. “Chloe, we should probably talk about this…”

“We’ll get to it some day.” Chloe stood and shook out her right leg - must have fallen asleep. She took a deep breath and slapped her face some. Almost instantaneously, it was like she never had the moment just ago. Chloe changed surprisingly fast - from so distant to seemingly fine in less than a few seconds. She’d done it more than once in their time together, but they never did get around to talking about the root of the problem.

Chloe walked out, leaving Max in the bathroom alone with her thoughts. She continued sitting there, wondering if this was a big enough thing to rewind over. She could. Chloe would never know the difference. If she got a nosebleed, it wouldn’t be so bad. She could always make a cover story about the dry air drying out her little no-. No. She couldn’t. Well, she could, but she shouldn’t. She didn’t do that anymore. Sometimes it was easier to fight the urges. Other times it wasn’t. This was one of the times it wasn’t easy.

    She stood, and her hands shook uncontrollably, causing her to fumble with the twist knob on the sink. A little cold water would help ground her. If she could just… turn… the knob… Her breathing was too erratic. Her throat felt tight, and time seemed to slip backwards and sideways. She needed to calm down before -

    She was only vaguely aware of Chloe standing beside her, guiding her hands to the sink fixtures and dabbing a paper towel on Max’s face. She didn’t remember Chloe coming in. Max looked around nearly blindly, trying not to slip into panic. She couldn’t focus on anything - anything other than Chloe. She was okay, though. Chloe was there.

    Chloe’s voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper. “Are you back in the land of the living?”

    Max nodded and looked in Chloe’s pristine ocean like eyes. She reached for Chloe’s face. “Are you alright?”

    Chloe pulled back. Ouch. “Not now.” Her voice stayed firm, but her well groomed eyebrows pulled together in worry. “ You never came out of the bathroom. I got worried after about ten minutes.”

    Victoria cleared her throat. She stood in the doorway, a worried scowl taking over her usually bitchy scowl. “I followed,” she added, not wanting to be left out. “Max, are you alright?”

    “I’m… not feeling the best,” Max admitted.

    “Is ‘no shit’ considered rude?”

    Chloe laughed - a genuine chuckle. Maybe there was hope for them. “Probably, but I don’t think it counts right now.”

    Victoria smiled slightly, changing her expression only a fraction of a millimeter. “You should probably go home, Max. It’s only a few days before Christmas, and you shouldn’t have to be sick on Christmas. Go get some rest.”

    “I’m fine,” Max protested, but her words were slurred. Her pulse pounded in her head and her eyes hurt like before… Oh, god… Her head. “I think it’s just a migraine.”

Max noted how Chloe’s eyes narrowed and her hands went stiff, but focused on Victoria instead. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”

    Victoria snorted. “I’ve got Lortab, if you want it.” She did her shifty eye thing. “I got my dad’s prescription refilled just in case something came up. I’m not Nath-”

    Her hand went to her mouth, and her eyes went misty. Max could practically feel the hurt radiating off of Victoria. It wasn’t hard to notice from the almost invocation of her dear dead friend’s name. The way her shoulders sagged. The way her clear eyes almost immediately looked bloodshot. The way the tip of her nose went red. It was a bitch to lose your best friend.  Max would know.

    To Max’s surprise, Chloe left her side and stuck her hand out to Victoria. “Truce?”

    Victoria offered the slightest shake of her head to rid herself of those pesky emotions, it seemed, and took Chloe’s hand. “I, uh… Yeah. From earlier. I’ll be nice if you are, and I’ll… be back with that Lortab.”

    Chloe knew when to let someone go cry somewhere for a minute and nodded. Victoria excused herself politely from the room.

    “Oh my god, they fucked.”

    Max choked. “CHLOE, OH MY GOD.”

    Chloe cackled a little under her breath. “They totally fucked.” She rubbed Max’s shoulder caringly. On some level, it bothered Max that Chloe could be so bad then turn on a dime to help her feel better. “I harbor no remorse for ragging on someone who drugged me and photographed me in a compromised situation.”

    “Yeah, but come _on_ . Victoria is _clearly_ hurting.  She didn't know about any of that." Max felt a smile pull at the corners of her mouth despite her attempt to keep composed. “Be nice. I chewed her ass off for what she said to you.”

    “Oh, I know.” Chloe flashed her patented shit-eating grin. “She divulged all the juicy details while you were off fuckin' around in here.”

    Max’s smile faltered. Chloe’s words could really hurt.

    Chloe seemed to notice. “Anyway, Victoria and I... came to a mutual understanding that, if we both care about you, we’ll play with each other.” Her face turned a little red. “Play nice with each other.”

    “That was Freudian.” Max giggled, the rest of the distant feeling fading from her mind and body. The fingers were the real indicators. Once feeling returned in them, she knew she was on the mend.

    “Stuff it, Ms. I’m-subtly-looking-up-Victoria’s-skirt. I guess neither of us are immune to the gay thoughts.”

    Heat rose in Max’s cheeks, and she looked away from Chloe’s brilliant, sparkling eyes. Oh, she could get lost in Chloe’s eyes, but… now wasn’t the time. She leaned in partially for a kiss, which Chloe did not reciprocate. Max backed away slightly.

    “Uh, we should find Victoria, I guess.”

    “Yeah,” Chloe agreed, seeming not to have noticed Max’s intent. “That sounds like a good idea.”

    “Hey, Chlo, are you alright?”

    “I’m thinking. I may or may not have really fucked shit up, man.” She didn’t look perturbed, though. More likely than not, some shenanigans were going down.

    Max swallowed, a sinking feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. “Tell me after we catch Victoria?”

    “Yes, we wouldn’t want to keep Princess waiting,” Chloe sneered and walked away. Max followed her out this time, the sinking feeling remaining deep in the pit of her stomach.

    Their footsteps echoed eerily in the empty room.  Even at this early stage, it seemed as though the gallery was nearly full.   Maybe that was just a trick of perspective, or maybe many of the photographs were merely placeholders.  Max tried not to think about the devastation contained in the frames.

Finally, Chloe stood beside Victoria, who was staring forlornly at a black and white photo. Max didn’t need to read the plaque to know whose it was. The subject was Victoria - her face obscured slightly, dramatic makeup emphasizing her eyes and lips. A portion of her arm covering her more explicit chest bits skirted the edges of the photo, and her back took the main portion, spine standing out as soft shadows against milky white marble. Her hair somehow looked dark. Lighting. Incredible lighting.

Neither of them turned to Max, who almost felt like she was intruding on some private, silent conversation.

Victoria took a breath like she was going to say something, but instead of something meaningful, just said, “If you two weren’t such losers, I would explain a few things about Nathan, but we aren’t here about him, are we?” She turned sharply. “Take the fucking Lortab and get out. Take pictures. Bring them back before February. You have my number.”

Chloe took a few pills from Victoria’s hand and said, “You tried. You’re not as big of a bitch as you could have been. Thanks.”

“Just leave me alone.” Victoria’s voice was… cold. She looked so lonely. So much darker than the photo before them.

That seemed to be the phrase of the day. Chloe walked away and pulled the sleeve of Max’s sweater. Max muttered a quiet thanks to Victoria, who didn’t respond.

They walked out to the truck, and Chloe dug around in her behind-the-seat stash for a water and tossed it to Max. She climbed in and placed a single pill in Max’s hand.

“While I wouldn’t normally recommend self medication to deal with life, take the damn pill.”

This time, Max didn’t argue. Her head still throbbed like someone had hit her with an aluminum baseball bat. _Or a tree branch_ . She swallowed and gave a weak laugh. “ _You_ don’t recommend self medication?”

Chloe’s brows furrowed, her mouth turned at the corners, and her eyes darkened. It had become, more often than not, her resting face. Chloe seemed… very unhappy lately. The night with the movie, for instance. They wanted to do something fun and interactive, but it still turned sour at one point. They just butted heads. It was almost like some kind of rift cracked open between them and sucked away their happiness. At D&D, Chloe seemed almost okay. She’d seemed like her normal self, but any other time, it  just seemed like her brooding had taken over the rest of her personality.

Honestly, Max couldn’t blame her.

Shock jolted through Max’s chest as Chloe turned and planted a firm kiss on her mouth. She didn’t resist it. After such… distance in the gallery, it was really a welcome gesture. Of all her kisses, usually so diverse in nature, this one boiled down to desperation and fear. Maybe anger touched it. Max couldn’t tell. Warm breath in the chilly truck warmed Max’s heart and helped her think that maybe it would be alright. Maybe she was just reading too much into things.

Chloe pulled away first. It seemed like that happened more often. Yeah, reading too much into things.

“Be straight with me, Max.”

“Seeing as how I'm gay as hell, I'll do my best.”

Chloe didn't smile this time. Yikes. Huston, we have a problem. “Did you rewind?”

All jokes were sucked from Max’s lungs along with air. “Oh, god, Chloe… No. I didn't.”

Chloe nodded ambivalently. “Your head normally clears up if you didn't, but it stuck this time so I… assumed the worst.”

Max looked at her hands folded in her lap. “I wanted to because I know I said the wrong things in the bathroom, and it was… so hard not to just… fix it. But I didn't rewind, I promise. You know I can't do that ever again.”

Chloe nodded grievously. “I trust you.” She got quiet for a time, and Max knew she was thinking, filing away some information into her memory. Eventually, Chloe sighed in frustration and nearly slammed her head against the back of the truck. “I might have fucked up with Victoria.”

“Um… How bad?” Max could feel the edges of her mind getting fuzzy from the medication. When it came to heavy medication, she was a leaf. Even ibuprofen worked fast and hard on her.

“I might have tried to fix things by saying that we would set up a meeting with Kate and Victoria.”

“You **_WHAT_ **???”


	9. Cigarette Daydreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No illustration this week, but hopefully the chapter is good enough to make up for it. Consider this one our late Christmas present to all our wonderful readers! We worked hard on this one, so feedback would be wonderful!
> 
> Have a late merry Christmas and an early happy new year! -Ben

Christmas Day drew closer.  Life proceeded much as it had for the recent past.  They never quite ended up having that feelings talk, but Max had a hard time worrying, for once.  Thing were okay.  Max had nightmares, but somehow they didn't seem quite as bad as they had been since the storm.  She wasn't waking up in a cold sweat at least, and they weren't so focused around her powers and the storm.  She even remembered having a  _ pleasant _ dream for once, where she had returned to Blackwell Academy only to discover that all the lockers had been filled with chocolate.  When was the last time she’d had a dream that didn’t try to tear her heart asunder?

She just put it down to the Christmas spirit cheering her up a little, but Chloe seemed hopeful that it was indicative of real progress.  

"Wouldn't it be great if you could actually, you know, sleep, for once?"  Chloe asked through a grin a mile wide as she measured flour, the day before Christmas Eve.  "Max, this is good!  You're getting better!  Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"

"The gift horse might have rabies.  Whoever gave me the horse could be ripping me off," Max retorted quietly from the fridge, a small smile on her face.  "Chloe, I just don't want to start getting my hopes up.  Or yours.  It's only been a few days.  That could mean anything."  She pulled the eggs from the fridge and dropped them off beside the big bowl Chloe was slaving over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Chloe blew a quiet raspberry in reply.  "Well  _ I'm _ going to be happy about it."  She leaned over to turn up the radio, humming along, leaving flour fingerprints on the volume dial.  The chugging guitar and intense female vocals got louder.   _ They're gonna bury you/They're gonna finish/They're gonna stand em up six by six by six... _  Max narrowed her eyes.  Was the song intentionally threatening her?

Max loved some of Chloe's favorite music.  Some of it... she didn't really understand. And some of it had to grow on her like a fungus. She winced a little.  "What happened to Christmas music?  You know, Jingle Bells, Deck the Halls?  The classics?"

Chloe rolled her eyes.  "Fuck that shit," she replied as she cracked an egg into the bowl.  "The Price household is a  _ No Christmas Music Zone. _  At least, when mom's not around."  She reached into the bowl, picking out a few stray bits of shell from the batter.  "This is why you don't have radio privileges."

The banter was nice.  It was easy to forget everything that weighed her down in moments like this.  She wasn't broken.  She wasn't afraid.  She wasn't a monster who had killed a town.  She was just... Max.  A girl making Christmas cookies with her girlfriend.  Maybe things  _ were  _ looking up.

Chloe made a show of vigorously stirring the batter.  "The more you stir it," she confided, "the better it is."

Max grabbed a handful of paper towels and started cleaning up what she could.  Chloe wasn't exactly neat.  "I don't think that's exactly how it works."

"What do you know about cooking?"  Chloe scoffed.  "I am, as anyone can see, the master chef in this relationship."

"Says the girl who ate nothing but ramen and Doritos when I went to visit my parents for a weekend."

Chloe flicked the spoon at Max, splattering her face with delicious cookie batter.  "Iron Chef!" she chanted.  "Iron Chef!  Iron Chef!"

Max made a noise that was more squeal than anything, raising her hands far too late to defend herself.  She lunged forward, grappling at Chloe's wrist for control of the spoon.  "You're gonna pay for that!"

Attempting to use her superior height to her advantage, Chloe fought back, still chanting.  She pulled and twisted, but Max was too strong.

"Die!"  Max grappled the taller girl, without much success.  

"Nooooo!" It was pretty much a stalemate.  

They wrestled for a few moments, laughing, when Max suddenly darted in, quick as a flash, planting a kiss on Chloe's lips.

Chloe stiffened in surprise at first, but quickly gave in.  Her playful tension relaxed, and she leaned into Max, gently - but with an edge of hunger - returning the kiss.  She made a soft sound in her throat, releasing the spoon with one hand to wrap around Max's waist to pull her closer...

At which point, Max pulled back, let out her best war cry, grabbed the spoon, and smeared batter over Chloe's face.  "Vengeance is mine!"

Chloe just looked down at Max for a moment, pathetic as a puppy dog who had just been accidentally kicked by its owner.  

Max rolled her eyes.  "Don't gimme that look.  You did it first."

Chloe held the expression for a few more seconds before breaking into a wide grin, raising one eyebrow and looking positively smug.  

"What's that look for?"

"Oh, nothing," Chloe said innocently.  "Just, you know, there's only one way to deal with a situation like this."

Max could see where this was going, but she put on a confused expression anyway.  The batter splatter was drying on her cheeks.  "And that would be?"  Chloe could be  _ such  _ a dork when she was in full flirt mode.

"You'll just have to lick it off."  Chloe fluttered her eyelids innocently.

Max burst out laughing, then grabbed Chloe by the wrist and pulled her in closer.  "C'mere, punk."

Joyce wouldn't be home for hours.  The cookies could wait.

* * *

 

Christmas Eve, the night sparkling.

It was dark and snowing as Max and Chloe made their way home, and it was beautiful.  Arcadia Bay really had come together as a community since the disaster.  Nearly every single home and business they passed were decked out and lit up, shining like jewels in the night, snowflakes dancing in the colored lights like rainbows.  A nativity scene here, a horde of marching snowmen there.

Even the families who didn’t celebrate Christmas for one reason or another had gone all out with decorations.  In this moment, in this town, the Christmas season wasn’t solely about Christianity or commercialism.  It was solidarity.  It was a way of saying that they’d all taken a beating from God or Fate, but they were all still here.  It was a reminder that light  _ did _ still shine, even after something as horrific as the storm.

It was enchanting.  The inside of the truck was toasty and comfortable, soft Christmas music piping through the radio.  Chloe’s hand in hers was warm, and the glass of the window was cool on her forehead as she stared out at the passing displays. 

By her side, Chloe drove calmly, the hint of a smile on her lips, a smoking cigarette between the fingers of the hand on the wheel. 

They didn’t need to speak to share this moment together.

Moments like this were some of Max’s favorites.  She loved talking to Chloe.  Hearing her voice, listening to what she had to say.  But there was something comfortable about the silence.  Lived in.  Warm. 

They pulled into Chloe’s driveway, and just… sat for a moment.  Looking into each others’ eyes.  Smiling.

Chloe was the first to turn, shouldering the door open with a quiet grunt of effort.  The keys-in-ignition alarm buzzed shrilly, and with a mumbled “Fuck,” she leaned back in to retrieve them.  

Max followed her out, taking her time walking around the front of the truck to be with her girlfriend.  Tonight was just… nice.  There hadn’t been enough nice in her life since the storm.  She didn’t want it to end.

After one last drag, Chloe flicked the still-lit cigarette into the snow and turned to face Max, smoke and fog blurring together as she exhaled.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

Max shrugged.  “At least they weren’t all high this time.”  She grasped Chloe’s hand in hers, and leaned up to peck her cheek.

Chloe snorted.  “They were high as fuckin’  _ kites _ , dude.  The only ones who weren’t were you and me.”

“Well, they seemed normal this time,” Max protested.

“Or my sweet little innocent Max just hasn’t been around pot enough to know.”  Chloe tugged on Max’s hand gently, leading her toward the door.  She must have noticed that Max was shivering a little.  

“Hey, I spend plenty of time around  _ you _ , pothead.”  Max let herself be led in.  

The house was dark and quiet, lit only by a few strings of Christmas lights, casting weird and colorful shadows across the walls.  Joyce was probably asleep.  Thank god for the new bedroom, Max thought.  The back of the garage had been converted into a room for Joyce, complete with a walk-in shower to help her bathe.  There was a disturbing symmetry to it, Max couldn’t help but notice when she went there.  Another reminder of the alternate universe where Chloe had been paralyzed. It had only recently been finished, the efforts spearheaded mostly by David, but it had taken Joyce’s newfound status as a local hero to bring in donations and volunteer labor.  She was incredibly uncomfortable with all the support, and it had taken all the money that would have gone into replacing the windows, but Max was happy that she had it.  Joyce deserved better than sleeping on a couch every night.

Chloe flicked the light switch, and gentle yellow light filled the hallway.  "You hungry?" she whispered, so as not to wake her mother.  "Because I'm starving."

Max thought about it for a moment, but her consideration was cut short when her stomach gurgled.  

Chloe kissed Max's cheek and practically skipped forward.  "Definitely gotta feed the monster then.  I'll make noodles."

Max rolled her eyes.  "Your specialty."

Chloe's nod was chipper.  "I make the best damn instant ramen this side of the Mississippi."

"You don't burn them anymore, at least."  Chloe had briefly had a little microwaveable bowl that made cooking blocks of ramen noodles simpler and faster.  It had lasted about a week before Chloe had put it into the microwave oven without remembering to fill it with water and melted it.  The stink of burnt plastic had lingered for way longer than Max would have expected.

Chloe ignored her, ferreting out a pot for the water as quietly as she could, which wasn't particularly quiet.   _ At least there's a wall between us and Joyce, _ Max thought as she watched her girlfriend fumble.

Once the pot was filled up and on the stove, Chloe leaned back against the fridge, apparently doing her best to look seductive.  It was... pretty cute, actually.  "Does my incredible culinary skill turn you on?"

Max snorted, then got up on her tiptoes to press a tiny kiss to Chloe's lips.  "You have no idea."

They didn't end up making out this time.  Instead, they just talked about light, silly things, laughing and teasing and just... enjoying themselves as the water came to a boil.  It burbled cheerfully as Chloe threw in a pair of blocks of instant noodles, only narrowly avoiding splashing herself with the scalding water.

Well, Chloe did always say she liked to live on the edge.   _ Danger is my middle name, Mad Max. _

After a few more minutes of quiet banter, the noodles were done, and Chloe busied herself into draining the water and separating the food into two separate bowls, then dumping in the flavor packets and stirring.  

Max wandered over to the table and sat down.  Chloe followed not far behind, setting a steaming bowl in front of her with a wink and a " _ Bon appetit _ ."  She took a seat on the opposite side of the table, facing Max with her own bowl in front of her.

Max smiled, looking across at Chloe, bathed in the soft light from the other room and the bits of color from the string of Christmas lights overhead.  Instant noodles and brightly colored mood lighting wasn't exactly a romantic candlelit dinner, but Max wouldn't have traded it for the world.  Moments like these... Quiet moments like these.  She lived for these moments.

Chloe furrowed her brow a little.  "Uh, Earth to Max?  You okay over there?"

Max blushed a little and looked down at her bowl.  "Yeah.  I'm fine.  I'm just..."  She reached across the table and took Chloe's hand.  "I'm happy."

Chloe looked a little startled, but she smiled shyly (something she did a lot more often than you'd expect, when they were being romantic) and reached up to adjust her beanie, to give her other hand something to do.  "I'm... happy too, Max.  Merry Christmas Eve?"

"Merry Christmas Eve."

Max didn't have a single nightmare that night.

* * *

 

The first thing Max noticed when she woke up the next morning was that Chloe wasn't in bed with her.

That didn't usually happen, but then, she usually woke up pretty early these days, no thanks to the nightmares. The sheets were cold, so she must have slept in quite a bit.  

With a little shiver, feeling the goosebumps rise on her arm, she reached out to the alarm clock, tired eyes blurred.  Seven thirty?  Chloe usually slept later than that when Max let her rest.  Chloe wasn't an early bird at all.  It wasn't just the sheets that were cold.  The whole room was freezing.

Blinking blearily, Max sat up, idly scratching a leg that hadn't been shaved in a few days.  The window was open?  Weird.  It was way too cold for that to be normal.  Chloe's computer was off and the door was closed.  No sign of her.

Odd.  But, Max thought with a little smile, maybe Chloe was just excited about Christmas morning.  Chloe could be just like a kid sometimes.  She'd been late to stop believing in Santa Claus as a kid, and Max still teased her for that sometimes.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she heaved herself to her feet and padded over to the closet.  Should she bother getting dressed?  She considered for a moment, then shook her head.  Fuck it, it was Christmas.  Big t-shirt, boxers, and bare feet it was.  Taking a moment to shut the window, she left the room with a jaw-cracking yawn.

A quiet Christmas jingle drifted up from the bottom of the stairs, and Max found herself smiling again.  Joyce must be up.  There was a quiet, distant sliding sound, then a muffled thump.  

"Merry Christmas!" she called as she came down the stairs.  Gentle clinks and clatters came from the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, Max!" Joyce called back.  

Max poked her head into the kitchen, where Joyce was delicately maneuvering around the cramped little kitchen.  Looked like... pancakes?  "Need any help, Joyce?  It smells delicious."

Joyce rolled her eyes.  "Oh, you're just being polite.  It's hardly even batter yet, Max, there's barely anything to smell."

Max grinned, an arm unconsciously crossed over her chest.  "Still.  The offer stands."

For a second, she thought she saw concern, but Joyce just shook her head.  "Thank you, Max, but I think I've got it from here.  The hard part's all done.  Just gotta cook 'em."

"If you say so.  You know where to find me!"  

Max wandered into the living room, and took a moment to admire the tree.  It felt so... homey.  They hadn't gone overboard with the decorations.  A few lights, a bit of tinsel, a few colored globes.  A glittering star rested comfortably on top.  There was a small pile of wrapped presents underneath.  Not terribly many, as none of them had much in the way of money, but it was a pleasant sight.  

Something was off though.  It was quiet.  She turned and really looked around the room, and noticed something significant missing: Chloe.  

"Hey Joyce?"  Max asked, poking her head back in.  "Have you seen Chloe anywhere?"

Joyce nodded as she spooned some batter into the pan.  "She was here just but a minute ago.  Said something about needing a smoke, I think, just before you came down."  She tutted.  "Now that's a bad habit I wish she hadn't picked up from me.  I hate to see her do that to herself.  Not to mention how..."  She sighed and shook her head.  "Never mind me.  I'm sure you've talked to her about it, Max.  I know I can't control that girl."  She snorted.  "Though lord knows sometimes I wish I could."

Max felt a tiny pang.  Everything else seemed so much better, but Chloe's smoking seemed to have gotten even worse since she'd started saying she wanted to quit. She would go lengths of time during the day without smoking only to go through half a pack later. Max had told her that she supported her, and would do whatever Chloe needed to succeed, but... She hated it.  She really did.

"Yeah, well, you know Chloe.  Telling her not to do something makes her want to do it twice as hard."  Max smiled feebly at Joyce, then went to the front door to find her shoes.  She slipped into them and went to the sliding door that opened out into the backyard.  She peeked out. 

Chloe was standing where the swings had been before the storm, facing away from the house.  It looked like she was fully dressed, and a wispy cloud of smoke hung around her.  As Max watched, she lifted the cigarette to her lips, and the tip burned down some more.

Max pushed the door open and stepped outside.  She shivered as a blast of cold air hit her, but she soldiered on and crunched through the thin layer of snow toward Chloe.  

Chloe didn't turn.  There was a cigarette butt on the ground, and the one in her hand had burned a little more than halfway down.  

"Chloe?"  Max reached out to gently touch Chloe's shoulder.

Chloe jumped, apparently startled, but when she looked back, she had a smile on her face.  "Oh, hey, Max.  Sorry, I just needed some fresh air, you know?  I..."  She hesitated.  "I thought I'd be back inside before you woke up."

There was something off about Chloe, but Max couldn't put her finger on what it was.  A jolt of nervousness shot through her gut, but she smiled anyway.  "Come back inside.  You're not dressed up enough for this weather.  You'll catch a cold."

"With  _ my _ constitution?" Chloe took one last drag and flicked the cigarette into the snow.  "I don't get sick.  But alright, you convinced me."

Max leaned in to kiss her, and the smell of smoke was thick.  She wanted to cough.  "Merry Christmas, you dork."

Chloe returned the kiss.  "Merry Christmas, Max."  She shivered briefly, as if she'd only just noticed how cold it really was.  "Come on, let's head in."

She strode off without waiting for a response, clearly expecting Max to follow.

Max did, frowning at Chloe's back.  This wasn't how Chloe usually acted.  This wasn't how she'd expected Christmas morning to go.  Even in their brief interactions, there had been a distance.  Was Chloe forcing her smile?

_ Stop that. _ _ Not everything has to be a disaster.  Everyone has off days. _  Hell, she was probably just making it all up.  Seeing things that weren't there.

Chloe shoved the door open and stomped over to the couch, dropping like a stone into the seat.  

Once Max's shoes were off and set neatly next to the door, she followed, taking a seat beside Chloe.  She scooted closer, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.  "Chloe, is everything okay?"  This close, the tension in her muscles was unmistakable.

"I'm fine," Chloe replied casually.  Cigarette stink around her hung like ominous fog.  "Why wouldn't I be?"

Max sighed.  "I don't know, that's why I'm asking.  You seem..."  She searched for the words.  "...Like something is bothering you."

Chloe shook her head.  "Nope.  I'm good."  Her words were prickly, but there was a clearly forced cheer in them.  "Just like I always am."

Max furrowed her brow, lifting her head to look at Chloe.  "I don't know what you mean."

Chloe opened her mouth as if to speak, but then sighed and pressed a kiss to Max's cheek.  "Sorry.  It's nothing.  I'm fine."

Max settled reluctantly back into the cuddle.  "Chloe, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yep, sure."  

"Okay..." Max sighed, a little exasperated.   _ Something _ was wrong, but she couldn't exactly help if Chloe wouldn't admit it.

_ She's tired of you, _ a voice whispered in her head.   _ You and all your problems. _

Max clenched her teeth and tried to ignore her thoughts.

_ You didn't wake her up last night,  _ it continued.   _ She's realizing how long it's been since she wasn't constantly dealing with your  _ **_issues._ ** _ How much she misses- _

Max inhaled raggedly, forcing the voice down.  She wasn't going to let herself overthink this.  It was Christmas, right?  She wasn't going to ruin it with her self-doubt.

She focused on her breath.  Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.  The smell of pancakes was well and truly wafting throughout the house, now, and the quiet sizzle of heated butter and batter drifted from the kitchen. 

Chloe had turned the TV on, and was idly watching the news.  Some pre-recorded fluff piece about some Christmas celebration in the next town over.  She tried to listen, but her thoughts were so  _ loud _ .

Her phone buzzed, and, grateful for the distraction, she checked it.  Kate.   **[Merry Christmas, Max!  I'm thankful for so much this year!]**  Then, before Max had time to respond, another message came in; a picture of Kate in her cute little duck pajamas, each arm around one of her sister's shoulders, grinning.  Max smiled, and opened up her phone's camera.

"Chloe, say hi to Kate!"  She scooted away and turned to frame her.  

Chloe blinked awkwardly, then turned to try to pose a little, giving the camera the double finger-guns.   _ Click. _  The second the picture was taken, Chloe sagged, all of the forced cheer drained back out of her face.

Max sent the picture as a reply to Kate, along with the message  **[merry christmas, kate!!  you guys are so beautiful! ^.^ maxoxo]** When she looked up and saw Chloe back to pretending not to mope, she sighed.  "Chloe.... talk to me.  Please."

Chloe visibly clenched her jaw for a moment before forcing her face to go slack.  "I'm fine.  Can we please go five minutes without a crisis?"

Max frowned, concerned, trying to ignore the cold lump in her stomach.   _ Tired of you _ .  “A crisis?  Chloe, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Chloe snorted, staring a hole through the TV.  “I  _ am _ okay.  You’re the one who’s making a big deal out of this.”

“Something’s obviously wrong,” Max began, but Chloe cut her off.

“Something’s  _ always _ wrong,” Chloe snapped without looking.

Max blinked, frozen.  “Chloe…?”

Chloe didn’t respond.  

“Chloe… you have to talk to me.  You’re always telling me to talk to you about what’s bothering me, right…?”  Max touched Chloe’s hand.  “I’m right here.  Talk to me.”

Chloe said nothing and pulled her hand away.

Max swallowed, the icy pit in her gut growing.   _ She hates you she finally sees how worthless you are she’s tired of you you’re damaged and worthless worthless  _ **_worthless-_ ** “Please…”

Chloe’s hand tightened into a fist.  “I’m there for you.  I’m always there for you.  No matter how I feel.  You need me, so I’m there.”

Max shook her head.  “Chloe, I don’t-”

“Understand?  Of course you don’t.”  Chloe still wouldn’t look at her.  “You have nightmares.  You have panic attacks.  Okay, I think, love is give and take.  I love you and I’m there for you.”

“I love you too, Chloe, but-”

Chloe continued as if Max hadn’t spoken.  “But it never stops, Max.  It never, ever stops.”

Max’s breath started coming faster, more ragged.  “I can’t help it, I just-”

“I  _ know _ you can’t help it,” Chloe hissed through clenched teeth.  “I _ know  _ you can’t help it and I’m such a piece of shit for it but what about me, Max?  What about  _ my  _ problems?” 

Max couldn’t breath.

“I don’t sleep well.  I hardly sleep at all, and half the time when I do, I have to wake up to take care of you.  But I can’t fucking  _ say _ that because then I’m the selfish asshole.  I have to hide how I feel because you’re so fucking fragile, Max.”

Clinking came from the kitchen.  “Pancakes are up, girls!  Come and get ‘em!”

Max’s throat was dry as a bone, and she couldn’t seem to remember how to speak. 

“You wake up screaming.  You have panic attacks.  So I always have to shove down whatever bullshit I’m dealing with and take care of you.  I’m depressed too, remember?  I have problems too!”  Chloe’s voice was raising as she went.  “I’ve been through the same things you were, but you don’t see me breaking down on the fucking hour every day!  I wish I could break down!  I wish I _could_ just hurt sometimes, but no!  I have to be there for you!”    
Joyce’s wheelchair sat in the doorway, her eyes wide.  “Chloe, are you-”

Chloe was on her feet now, her fists clenched at her sides, still not looking.  “I’m there for you every single day, Max.  When’s the last time you were there for me?”

That struck home, and Max stood up herself, tears glistening in her eyes.   _ Where did this come from?  We were so happy. _  “When’s the last time I was there for you?  I’ve been there for you every minute since that day in the bathroom!”  She wasn’t quite yelling and she wasn’t quite crying, but she was more than halfway there.  “You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me!”

Chloe barked out a bitter laugh.  “Yeah, Max.  I wouldn’t.  Sometimes I wish you hadn’t.  Oh, I’m sorry, is that a surprise, Max?”  She stamped her foot.  “My problems didn’t just go away because Nathan didn’t put a _bullet_ in me.  He still drugged me!  I still lost everyone!  So you haven’t abandoned me yet.  Who cares?  Everyone abandons me in the end!  After this, of course you won’t stay, so what does it matter?”

“Chloe, I’m not going anywhere, but that’s ridiculous!”  She was definitely crying now.  She could feel the wet lines on her cheeks.  “Okay, I didn’t know how bad you were suffering, but you have to talk to me!”

“I  _ can’t,  _ Max!   That’s what you don’t understand!  I always had to take care of you!  Soothe  _ you _ !  There’s never been any  _ time _ for me!”

Time.  That was all she had.  Time.  This was bad.  This was so, so bad.   How long had Chloe been holding this in?  How long had it been building?  She felt so flabbergasted.  She felt so blindsided. Then again… couldn't she see this coming…? Maybe not for this second, but one day, it was going to happen.  “How can I take care of you when you won’t even try to take care of yourself?” she shot back desperately.  Hitting back was wrong, and she knew it, but it was all she could think of.

“ _ Excuse me?” _

“I did so much to save your life and you’re still killing yourself!  So you aren’t pointing a gun at your head, Chloe, but are the cigarettes any better?  I went through so much to keep you safe and I have to sit here watching you poison yourself!” Such a low blow and such a feeble attempt.

Chloe laughed again as if knowing the argument’s weakness.  “Because you’re doing such a great fucking job taking care of me!  Is it any wonder I self-medicate?”

Tears were running freely down Max’s face now.  She felt so… so  _ helpless _ .  “Chloe, I am so sorry for what I haven’t done for you, but-”

Chloe turned away.  “No.  Max, I…”  Her voice was suddenly very quiet.  “I need to think.  I need…”  She trailed off, as if she couldn’t finish the thought, and bolted for the front door.  After a moment, there was the muffled sound of her truck coughing to life.

Max just stood there in front of the couch, stunned.   _ You’re doing such a great job taking care of me.  There’s never been any time for me. _

Her eyes burned, her throat was tight…. After all she’d been through, was this how it ends?

“Max?”  Joyce seemed almost as taken aback as Max.  “Honey, are you alright?”

Max didn’t say a word.  The fingers on her left hand twitched.  A great, heaving sob escaped her lips, and in a moment, she was running too.  Where?  She wasn’t sure.  Joyce called after her, but she didn’t stop.

She stood in Chloe’s room, sobbing, leaning back against the door.  She was so  _ stupid. _  She should have seen that Chloe was hurting.  She should have seen how  _ selfish _ she’d been.  How hard she’d been to deal with.   _ Chloe is done with your shit, Max. She's not coming back. Not the way she'd been before this. Nothing can fix this. _

_ Yes,  _ **_something_ ** _ can.  _

The thought hurt so bad.  Everything hurt so bad.   _ Merry Christmas _ .  Her fingers twitched again.

What other option did she have?  With a choked noise, she almost subconsciously lifted her left hand out before her…

...and…

The world spun crazily around her, shapes and colors blurred and twisted and nauseating.  Something pounded over and over in her head, like the beat of a great drum, and a high pitched whine filled her ears.  For an instant it all seemed too much, the way it always did, but then, a single clear thought.   _ You swore you’d never do this again. _

She dropped to her knees with a heavy thud and a desperate gasp, her right hand clutching at her heart.  She was still crying, and her lungs felt like they could only let out a burning pinprick’s worth of air.

She simply sat there for a moment before she looked up, eyes nervously searching out the alarm clock.  7:30.  Before she’d gone downstairs.  Before the fight.  Her body went cold.   _ Oh, god. _

_ What have I done? _

 


	10. Too Late To Say Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This weeks chapter, we're taking a little bit of a different approach and tackling Chloe's perspective! Thank you all for the reviews. All of them. We love your distress. It feeds us. (:  
> \- Sid (thesilvergoddess)

A chill seeped into Chloe’s bones that morning - not from the actual cold. She’d dreamed about Rachel. Not uncommon, sure, but still unsettling.  _ “You’re the one that should have died, Chloe. I had everything going for me, and you dragged me into this. Chloe, you’re why I went to that party. Chloe, Nathan didn’t kill me. How could he kill me when you’re holding the syringe?” _

She tried to close her eyes again. Images from the dreams and memories kept flashing behind them. No, no more sleep today. A dull throb whispered at the back of her mind. She didn't think she could ignore the urge to smoke this time, but she could at least put if off for a little while. She rolled and looked over at Max - something she did often when Max was asleep. Sometimes it was only to check her breathing. This morning - the clock blinked out a cheery red 6:24 AM - Max lay on her side facing Chloe with her lips slightly parted and chill bumps on her exposed arm. The circles under her eyes were so… dark - like she’d been beaten and bruised by sleeplessness and stress.  The last few nights seemed to leave her alone for the most part, though two nights ago she did end up whimpering, but Chloe just rested her hand on Max’s shoulder and the whining quieted down. 

This time though, Chloe didn’t lay there and watch Max sleep as she often did. The dreams lingered, and every time she opened her eyes felt like the blinding light of camera flash. Instead, she covered Max’s small arm (god, had she gotten even skinnier?) with the blanket and pulled it closer around her face. Joints creaked and popped like the house when it shifted. Chloe grunted softly as her bare feet hit the cold, wooden floor, grabbed her pants hanging over the chair where she opened the window a bit in an attempt to feel less nauseated, and padded over to a drawer, picking out a fresh shirt. A shower wouldn’t necessarily knock the internal chill off her bones, but it would certainly feel a lot better than just sitting around in her own brain fog. As she left, she looked back over her shoulder at Max, who moved slightly at Chloe’s banging around. The blanket had slipped off the goofball’s arm again.

Chloe didn’t go back to fix it. Maybe two months ago she would have, but not now. She was fairly certain that she overreacted to everything about Max’s troubles, but she knew how bad Max had been in the beginning. Hell, the poor kid had almost needed a silent padded room with literally no external stimulation. Now, though, Chloe almost felt… neglectful. Sometimes she snapped at Max when Max really needed her to be strong. Sometimes she resented it when Max seemed to come down with a case of something when Chloe was already there. She almost hated the sympathy Max got when no one would offer her any. She felt like she was responsible for her traumatized, sweeter than candy girlfriend. She knew that wasn’t healthy, but then again, what relationship is truly one hundred percent healthy?  _ Sorry excuses. _

Chloe listened and heard soft wheelchair sounds and quiet humming.  _ Mom’s up. _ At least no one had to worry about the hot water. 

* * *

 

Thirty minutes of talking herself out of doing potentially stupid and dangerous shit later, Chloe emerged from the bathroom even more anxious than she’d gone in. That smoke was starting to be a necessity instead of a luxury. She peeled off another tip of a fingernail with her teeth. At this rate, she’d be down to the quick on all of her nails before the day was over. She shook out her hand and idly flicked off the fingernail leavings.

“You're up early,” remarked Joyce. Chloe’s heart warmed a little when she saw her cute lil mom still rolling around in her pajamas. She would try not to give her too much hell today.

“Yep. Need a smoke, but it can wait.” She felt herself start gnawing on the ragged edge of a half chewed nail.

A ghost of a dry smile shadowed Joyce's lips, creased with lines and between two parentheses. She used to smile so much more… “You know what I'm going to say so... Insert motherly chiding here.” She yawned a bit before adding. “I know Max wishes you would stop as much as I do, and you're my only daughter… But you can only lead a horse to water.”

Chloe honestly wished everyone would shut the hell up about it, but she looked at the worry in her mother's eyes.  _ I'VE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH. JUST LET ME SMOKE.  _ She couldn't snap back at Joyce like that. Not now. Uneasiness that the shower dulled now settled once again in her stomach. Her empty fingers twitched, and she absentmindedly wiped at her nose, forcing a smile. “Hmm. Motherly chiding sounds like you.”

“Chloe, honey, you know I'm messing around.” She wheeled a bit away from where Chloe sat at bar. “Tell you what. I'll make pancakes this morning. It  _ is _ Christm-”

A thudding door from upstairs.

Her mom's face lit up like the fat, squat tree in the living room. “Max must be up!”

Chloe’s stomach twisted. She had to get her shit together before Max (invariably) needed her again. “Yeah, I'm going smoke. Pancakes sound good, mom.” 

Chloe didn't miss the watchful, discerning look in her mother's blue eyes, but she didn't care either. Joyce was no dummy. Chloe snatched a pack of cheap (no, affordable) menthols off the dining table and ratcheted open the sliding door, crunching out into the snow blanketed back yard. A filament of thought drifted through her mind.  _ Where was that kitten? _

With long practice, Chloe started on cigarette number one of… who knew how many this morning? Her stiff neck creaked in protest of the cold. Thoughts flickered back to flashing lights as the snow glittered brightly after every blink. She cringed and puffed a little more feverently. She could really use something stronger to take the edge off, but she needed to be in a decent mood before heavy duty self medication or else she'd trap herself in a sluggish funk along with her memories and fear. Not that she was doing a stellar job of combating those now.

She so desperately wanted to go to Max about it, but every time she even thought she could, Max would need her more. Just like at the gallery. Anger bubbled just under Chloe’s sternum. She was always there for Max. Always. Even at detriment to herself. 

_ Max is there for you. You just won't trust her. _

_ HOW CAN I TRUST HER WHEN EVERYONE LEAVES ME? _

She could hear Max’s voice from inside. Chloe’s stomach twisted in a way that felt familiar, but she couldn't place it. Her thoughts flickered again like a dying fire - almost like deja vu. At some point she'd started her second cigarette.

Chloe, turned away from the door, heard Max come out, and she knew immediately something was wrong.  _ Of course something's wrong. Something's always wrong.  _ She didn't look at Max. Honestly, she didn't know if she could keep her cool if she saw that blue eyed puppy dog stare.

A soft voice accompanied a soft touch on the shoulder. Chloe’s heart sank and she suddenly felt like a real dick. All the violence dissipated. “C-Chloe?”

Chloe felt herself jump as if on reflex. She turned and put a smile on her face that wasn't far from genuine. "Oh, hey, Max.  Sorry, I just needed some fresh air, you know?  I..."  She hesitated a moment.  "I thought I'd be back inside before you woke up."

Her heart squeezed when she looked in Max’s eyes. They were… glassy. Distant. Afraid.

“Max…?” Chloe’s own voice felt small.

Max’s eyes flickered back and forth between Chloe’s before tracking absently around Chloe’s face. Her mouth opened and closed like a gasping fish. Chloe thought she heard the beginning of a word underneath Max’s ragged breathing. Her chest heaved and shuddered as her unnaturally blueish lips moved silently. That’s when Chloe noticed the twitching fingers of Max’s left hand. 

And the blood that started gushing from her nose was like Chloe had never seen before. She'd seen two bad reactions from a rewind but this...

Max’s eyes, covered in burst blood vessels, seemed to focus for a horrified second on Chloe, whose heart stopped entirely. Her blood ran colder than the snow outside, and the deep seated fear that gripped her soul squeezed tighter.  _ Oh, no. _ And then Max’s eyes rolled back in her head as she collapsed onto the snow covered ground.

Chloe was only dimly aware of herself screaming for Joyce to call an ambulance as she fell to her knees beside Max and cradled Max’s limply lolling head on her own lap.  _ Keep the blood from choking her.  _

The cold outside didn't have any bearing on the chill in Chloe’s bones.  _ You're going to lose her, and all you wanted to do was fight her. You couldn't appreciate her. YOU DON'T DESERVE HER. _

A splatter of water hit Max’s face, which Chloe held and stroked in a fevered panic. Tears? Sirens sounded from a million miles away. Joyce's voice came from behind a dozen velvet concert curtains. Years passed as Chloe desperately stroked Max’s clammy, cold skin and her soft, fine hair. Blood splattered on Chloe’s jeans and the snow below.

“Max, oh, god. Max, please wake up. Max, please. Max, come back. Please. Max, I'm so sorry just please come back. Max…” A million begging utterances. 

Pain wracked Chloe’s chest - a sharp stabbing playing melody on a fearful, panicked, dull ache. 

Fear. Primal, violent fear gripped Chloe’s heart as an EMT pried Max from her grasp and held her back. She vaguely felt disconnected from her body - as though someone else were controlling her actions. She felt, distantly, her vocal cords going raw from sobbing and screaming.

“ _ I CAN'T LOSE HER, TOO. _ ” 

Her vision blurred, and her soul felt sucked down to a pinpoint the dark. Fear. So much fear. Held in for so long. Her mind wandered into that darkness. Where was she? It didn't matter. What was she doing? Who cares? 

Max. That's who.

Chloe felt herself rubbing at her eyes and breathing too quickly. Beeps and urgent voices called her back from wherever she'd gone. The hospital.

She'd lost time - something that didn't happen often… only under tremendous stress. She sat in the uncomfortable, faux wood chair in an empty hospital room - the newer wing of the Emergency Room - and took a minute to try to think through anything she could even faintly remember. Joyce chittered vehemently to a lab coat. Chloe felt warm, reassuring pressure on her right hand, which she moved slightly, but Joyce wasn't letting go.

Chloe managed to piece a timeline together of fragmented, foggy recollections. Max collapses. Joyce calls an ambulance. EMTs arrive and break up the two of them. Max is loaded into said ambulance. Kate texts Chloe. Chloe calls in a panic. Chloe and Joyce drive to hospital. Kate arrives at hospital, gets keys from Joyce, and leaves to bring back clothes for Max and Chloe. Joyce calls the Caulfields. Joyce holds Chloe’s hand the whole way.

Her ears rang, and her throat felt like she'd tried to swallow razor blades.

“Mom…?” Her voice was already hoarse.

Joyce seemed a little startled and looked over at Chloe - tiredness settling in crow's feet, accentuated by the harsh, clinical lights of the hospital. “You alright, honey?” She squeezed Chloe’s clammy hand some more.

“I, uh… I spaced out. What… What's happening…?” She refused to look her mother in the eye and felt her cheeks betray her Totally Cool exterior.

“You seemed pretty out of it, but that's okay. Sometimes big things are hard to deal with.” She added quickly. “I'm not mocking you. That was quick thinking on your part to elevate her head. The doctor said it probably kept her from…” Joyce shook her head, and Chloe noticed her mom still wore her festive, fleece pajamas.

Chloe’s heart slowed it's erratic pace along with her breathing. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she let go of Joyce's motherly touch. She tried to even out her tone before speaking, but her voice cracked anyway. “Where is she now?”

“If you want to go for a little walk and get some water, she's getting a brain scan now, so she'll be a bit.”

She almost always knew what Chloe needed without needing to be told.

Chloe walked off down a sterile hallway, dry heat circulating above while chill bit at her legs. The dry heat only chapped her lips. The chill in her bones ran too deep for any heater to warm her. A nurse hustled by without looking at Chloe. A walkie-talkie blurped out a tune and a static veiled voice called out, “Repeat, any spare radiology techs to Diagnostic Imaging Room Two.”

Diagnostic Imaging… Invariably where Max was getting her brain scan.

The chill turned to numbness. She nearly bumped into the vending machines at the end of the hall, which turned onto another hall. She blinked a few times and tried to jog her brain. 

“Caffeine,” She muttered and jabbed the button without thinking. 

The cheery red lights on the Coke machine blinked $1.50, and Chloe dug around in her pockets for two, crinkled dollar bills which she shoved in the machine. One bill, the machine refused. Chloe numbly stuffed it back in the yellow slot. INSERT BILLS HERE, it read. Like a wrinkled tongue, the machine slipped it back out again. Chloe took the dollar and smoothed it on her leg. George Washington seemed pretty smug about not being fed to the caffeine machine. Almost like he was mocking her. 

She tried again only for the machine to spit it back out. In. Out. In. Out. Her annoyance turned to frustration, and like an unseeable force that crept from her chest, tears fell from her eyes. She felt… helpless, and George Fucking Washington wasn’t helping. It seemed like everything she was doing was pointless. Despair welled in her rib cage and escaped as bitter tears. She found her head too heavy to hold and leaned it against the machine while tears fell silently down her face, hoping against hope that no one would come down either hallway. Her luck sucked. 

“Ma’am…?” A timid voice. 

Chloe wiped her face and straightened, turning with dry eyes and a small yet sheepish smile. “Yeah, sorry. Stupid wrinkled dollar bill.” She dug in her pockets looking for some spare change, but the nurse held out two quarters.

“Are you with Ms. Caulfield? Joyce said that you were looking for some water.”

Chloe cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes again. “Y-yeah. I am. Is this about Max?”

The nurse put the quarters in the machine herself. “I can’t… really say anything, but you need to know that she’s going to be okay. She had something… very strange happen, but working in a hospital, I can tell you. Sometimes, life can  _ be  _ strange.”

Chloe punched the Coca-cola button a little too hard and the front of the machine warbled in protest. “She’s gonna be okay?” Her voice cracked and tears threatened to fall again. 

“We’re going to have to keep her overnight, but if she does well tonight, then yes. If she doesn’t, well… We’ll figure something out.” She put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “That’s all I can say, but we can tell you both more soon.”

Chloe nodded brusquely and watched the nurse shuffle off. Unsorted feelings burbled in her chest, and her head began to pound. She leaned and picked up her Coke, cracking the lid and taking a long sip before walking back to the hospital room where Joyce waited, thumbing her phone screen idly. She was probably playing a game. She glanced up at Chloe upon her arrival. 

“Did you run into the nurse?”

Chloe nodded but said nothing. Joyce didn’t pry.

A quiet repeated buzzing filled the quiet room. It took a couple of insistent buzzes before Chloe realized it was her phone. She pulled it from her back pocket. Kate. She hastily answered before the phone rolled to voicemail. 

“Hey.” Chloe’s voice didn’t crack this time. 

“Chloe? Is everything okay? You haven’t updated me! What room are you in? I’ll come find you!”

The questions didn’t really bother Chloe at this point. She could really use a nap. “Everything’s fine.” She saw Joyce look up at her shrewdly. “Everything will be fine,” she clarified. “We’re in room…” She’d already forgotten.

“207.” Joyce offered.

“207,” Chloe added with a mouthed ‘thanks.’

“I’ll be there in just a minute! I brought your mom some clothes and-”

“Just tell me when you get here.”

It was quiet a moment on the other end of the line. 

“Right. Be there in a few.”

“Yeah.” Chloe hung up the phone, and turned to Joyce. “Kate.”

“I figured, Ms. Grunt-and-Mumble.” Joyce rolled her eyes. “You really ought to be nicer over the phone. Kate’s just trying to help.”

Chloe shrugged in response.  More than anything, she was silent to keep the tears at bay.  If she spoke too much, she was afraid of what would come out of her mouth. Silence was the best option. She flopped next to her mom and idly watched her play Candy Crush for a few minutes before there was a tentative knock on the door. 

Joyce, without taking her eyes off the game, opened the door slightly and let Kate in who stood bearing plastic, grocery bags of clothes, toiletries, and sundry things. Kate’s eyes dropped from Chloe’s as she rested her caravan packs onto the floor. 

“I uh… also stopped by the store to grab some granola bars, just in case the cafeteria wasn’t available when you guys got hungry.” She shrugged and smiled. “So… Fill me in. Is she okay?”

Joyce remained silent for a few seconds, and Chloe looked down at her ragged nails, peeling away rough edges. Joyce spoke and clicked her phone screen closed. “Well… The doctor came in while Chloe went to get a drink and said that she would most likely be alright. She needs to be observed all day today and tonight, and I can’t stay overnight. Chloe will have to do that.”

“I can if you need to go home, Chloe,” Kate interjected.

Chloe shook her head. “I’m staying.” She paused, realizing her words came out a little too hard. “Thanks though, Kate.”

Kate nodded, and Joyce continued. “She needs an open MRI to be sure, but they said that it looks like a brain aneurysm.”

Chloe’s heart froze and her eyes dried out instantaneously. She heard Kate’s breathing stop. “A what…?”

“A brain aneurysm. The doctor said it wasn’t anything to really worry about unless it was… significant, which it could have been.”

Chloe felt rage simmering just under her sternum at not knowing sooner, but she was mildly thankful for being out of the room at announcement time. She wasn't rightly sure what that meant but...

“They said it isn’t an official diagnosis yet, though, just a shot in the dark.”

Kate remained quiet throughout the explanation and excused herself a few moments after Joyce finished. She came back a good bit later, under her eyes puffy and as red as the tip of her nose. She spoke quietly. “I called Warren, Brooke, Daniel, and Victoria. Warren and Brooke said they could come take a shift tomorrow, if you need it, Chloe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chloe growled.

“You might need to get some rest is all, but you don’t have to leave. I’ll get you a roll out bed.”

Joyce shook her head and muttered, “It’s only ten thirty, and it feels like midnight.”

Kate blinked rather rapidly and looked at Joyce with wide eyes. “Oh! I uh… I brought you clothes.” She paused and covered her mouth in a gracious little gesture to hide a smile. “Not that I don’t love your jammies.”

Joyce smiled but shook her head again. “I don’t think I’m going to need them. I don’t rightly feel the best, and I’m getting David to take me back home, if you’ll stay with Chloe after Max gets back and I hear everything.”

Kate nodded and whipped out her phone, tapping quickly. A few moments later her phone beeped happily. “My parents say that’s fine and to do whatever you needed me to do!”

Another knock at the door.

A slim woman walked in without approval. Her calf length lab coat nearly caught in the door as it closed behind her. 

“Oh, Kate. I didn’t know you were working today.” Her tone was nonchalant as she read something off a clip board.

“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m here just as a friend and support today.”

The lady made a noncommittal grunt. “You must be Mrs. Madsen.” She’d turned to Joyce. “Max is going to be fine. It wasn’t too big of an aneurysm and it didn’t rupture, so surgery isn’t necessary.” She paused and glanced over the chart again. “But it was, in fact, an aneurysm. Her blood pressure was 115 over 75, though, and she’s stable. We got her awake and functioning for a while, but she seemed very confused for a while. We got her all sorted out and explained everything to her, and we kept her awake and stable for a while before letting her rest again.”

Chloe felt herself get more disgruntled. She wasn’t one of these smart types. “Okay, but… What exactly is an aneurysm?”

The doctor looked over at Chloe for a second before dryly stating , “A bulging blood vessel in the brain that, if it ruptures, can cause a stroke or death.”

Chloe swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“Whatever Ms. Caulfield has been doing needs to stop. If it continues, it will most likely kill her.” The doctor looked at Chloe from her shoes to the top of her head before directing a request. “May I speak to Chloe alone, please?”

Kate was out of the door faster than Chloe thought possible, and Joyce wheeled herself out as well. Once alone, the doctor continued her hard glare at Chloe. “Are you aware of what causes an aneurysm?”

Chloe felt a sweat break out on the small of her back and under her arms. “I didn’t learn about that in biology, so no.”

“Very funny.” The doctor looked over the charts again. “When did Ms. Caulfield start having these symptoms?”

Chloe shifted uncomfortably. “October.”

“Ms. Madsen told me that you’ll be staying because you’re her girlfriend.”

Chloe clenched her teeth. “Yes?” Her voice was hard and the “s” sounded more like a hiss.

“When did you two start dating?”

“October.” Uneasiness gripped Chloe’s insides, and she nervously sipped at her sweaty Coke.

“Ms. Price, I’ll be perfectly clear with you. You seem like a type of person who isn’t exactly an upstanding citizen. Have you enticed Ms. Caulfield into any recreational drugs?”

Chloe’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t really even get Max to try to smoke pot with her. “I can’t even get her to smoke a cigarette. Not that I’d want her to start the habit.”

“Be honest with me, Ms. Price. Only two things could cause such a dramatic problem in someone so young and one of those things is cocaine use.”

Chloe couldn’t stop the snort. “Of course it is.” She huffed. “No. Max hasn’t done any recreational drugs in her life.”

“The other cause is repeated head trauma.”

Chloe could see where this was going but stayed silent.

“Ms. Price, have you ever gotten mad at your girlfriend? Have you ever gotten so mad at her you wanted to put her in her place?”

Chloe couldn’t help her voice from rising a little. “No. I have never hit Max. I have never even  _ wanted _ to hit her. I would  _ never _ hit Max. Sure, I’ve gotten mad at her. Sure, we’ve argued, but I have  _ never _ even  _ thought _ about hurting her.”

But that was a lie, she felt like. She’d thought about horrible things happening to Max that she didn’t even really want to happen. When she got mad at her, she thought about dark and scary things, and she got so mad so often lately. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to Max, but sometimes her brain went somewhere else that not even Chloe knew she was capable of going. She would never act on anything. She could never hurt Max. 

_ But you’ve thought it, and that’s just as bad. _

The doctor looked at her skeptically, as if knowing the thoughts going on in Chloe’s head. She didn’t say anything else and opened the door to leave, looking over her shoulder at Chloe. “Think it over, Ms. Price, and if you have anything to change about what you’ve said, please let us know so we can do  _ our _ best to help Ms. Caulfield.” She started to move but paused. “What about a Rachel? Maxine was muttering something about a Rachel.”

Chloe's blood ran cold. “Rachel's dead, so what does it matter?”

The doctor nodded curtly and walked out. Chloe felt a scream rising in her throat. She drank another sip of Coke. The bubbly beverage dissolved the feeling. She looked at her hands and felt disgusted. She couldn’t even be upset at Max without the universe trying to put her back in her place. Bitter resentment coated her tongue like the sugar from her drink. 

_ No. Now isn’t the time for a grudge,  _ a part of her said.

_ It’s  _ **_never_ ** _ the time for a grudge. _

Joyce busted into the room with a sour look on her face, and Kate looked appalled and ashamed.

“The  _ nerve _ of that doctor!” Joyce spat. “To accuse  _ my _ daughter of something like that!”

Kate blanched and shook her head. “She can be unreasonable sometimes.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say that to anyone, or I’ll get fired.”

Joyce rolled over to Chloe and took Chloe’s hands in hers. “You listen here, Chloe. Don’t let that doctor do anything to bring you down. That… that  _ bitch _ .”

Chloe felt a bark of salty laughter come out. Sometimes, Joyce knew the right thing to say. 

* * *

 

A while later a nurse rolled Max in and set her up again in the hospital room. Wires came from every available opening of her thin little hospital gown. Garish yellow socks covered her feet, which were, invariably, blue. The whole damn place was freezing. Kate explained that it kept germs from spreading, but Chloe would have much rather be covered in germs at this point. 

Kate swapped Max’s socks for some a little more comfortable while Chloe dug out a fleece blanket and wrapped it around the tiny body on the hospital bed. She looked down at Max. The blood under her nose had been washed away, but that didn’t make her look any less… bad. Her eyes looked like someone had punched both of them, and her cheeks seemed entirely too pale. Her skin was so cold.

Chloe shuddered. It hadn’t been fast getting her back into the room, but she didn’t really know what she was supposed to expect. Now that Max was back, she had no idea what to do. 

Joyce had called David to come pick her up and said she would be back if Chloe needed her, but she decided to go work some on Christmas to make extra money. “Since no one’s going to be around the house, I don’t know why I would stay there.”

Chloe wasn’t even slightly irritated at her mom. She normally would have liked for Joyce to not go to work, but she felt that she could use some time by herself. Mostly by herself. Max didn’t exactly count as company while she was unconscious. Another nurse came in after Joyce left to put something in Max’s IV drip. 

“Ketorolac,” Kate said.

Chloe just nodded like she understood.

“It’s an anti inflammatory.” She stood and stretched. “Chloe, it’s nearly noon, and I know you haven’t eaten. Do you want to g-”

“No, I’m fine.” Her stomach gurgled in betrayal.

“Do you want  _ me _ to go get you something to eat, then?”

Chloe chewed on her lip a second and adjusted her beanie out of habit. “Yeah…”

Kate nodded and left again. 

Chloe resumed her post holding Max’s hand until Kate came back with a burger, fries, and water, which lasted all of two seconds in Chloe’s grasp. She wiped her hands lazily on her pants, grabbed Max’s hand carefully, and rested her head on the bed, sitting in the horribly straight backed chair beside it. God, she looked so small in that gown. So frail. So vulnerable. Chloe felt her shoulders starting to get tight. She needed a smoke but didn’t want to leave Max’s side for even a second.

“I see what you’re doing,” she whispered mostly to herself. “This is just an elaborate plan to get me to stop smoking.” She laughed a little to herself. It was a tired laugh.

The day drew on, Kate napping and reading in one chair and Chloe in the other, painfully hunched over Max’s sleeping self. They took breaks staying in the room. Chloe needed fewer breaks than Kate. David had come by at one point to bring the girls some food from the Whales, where he’d been hanging around all day.

After a few hours of vigilant watch, disturbed only by nurses checking Max’s vitals and David delivering food, Kate scooted her chair closer to Chloe.

“So… What actually happened?”

Chloe didn’t say anything for a long minute and didn’t look back at Kate.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, I’ve talked to her as much as you have, but from what I understand, she rewinded.”

“And it hurt her this time?” Kate’s soft voice didn’t make Chloe’s skin crawl, unlike so many others’ quiet tones. Hers wasn’t patronizing. 

“I don’t know, man. She hasn’t in all this time. Not since right after the storm. Sometimes, she would pass out or get a nosebleed, but most of the time, she’d just get a headache. This time...” She shuddered, the cold returning to her chest. “She looked… wrong. She was almost blue. There was too much blood this time. Usually, it’s just a trickle or even a little more, but this time it was so bad...Her pupils were too big and… She just looked wrong, Kate. I was really scared for a while, there Even if she went back, she must have done it a lot. I've never seen anything like… like that.”

Kate’s eyebrows scrunched, and she sipped on her Sprite. “I’m glad you were there for her, at least. It’s a real blessing you were there, despite what’s happened. The doctor said if you hadn’t elevated her head that she would have choked.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Kate clicked her phone display on after a few minutes of silence. “Chloe, I should probably be getting home soon.” She paused. “If you need me to, though, I can stay.”

Chloe shrugged and stretched from her seat. “Nah, go on home. What time even is it?”

Kate stood and gathered a few of her things. “It’s almost seven. Do you want to go for another walk before I go?”

She shook her head. Secretly, Chloe wished Kate would have left hours ago but knew that she was just as worried. She also knew that her temper might let go around the daytime crew and needed incentive not to lose her cool. All the time stuck in a ten foot by ten foot room with no television, no window, and no way to dull thoughts made Chloe edgy. She felt trapped. Confined. Time meant nothing with the harsh overhead light.

Time. Chloe felt numbness in her fingers.

“Well, uh… Text or call if you need anything, alright?” Kate rested a hand on Chloe’s shoulder before hugging her from behind. “I’ll also get you a fold out bed for tonight before I go.”

Chloe, keeping one hand still on Max’s, squeezed Kate’s forearm and looked up with a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Kate.”

The irritability from her lack of smoking started taking its toll hours before Kate left, but it only really crept in when no one was there to help Chloe share the burden. She cringed and felt slightly sick to her stomach. Had she just thought of Max as a burden?

_ No. _

Some more time passed before a smiling nurse knocked barely and rolled in the fold out, explaining how it worked, to which Chloe just nodded along and muttered some thanks. She hadn’t realized how tired she was and thought that, despite everything that had happened, she might get some sleep. She assembled the fold out and sat on the slab disguising itself as a bed. She leaned over Max again and watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. She watched Max’s eyes flutter behind her eyelids. She noticed the pink that had come back a little in Max’s cheeks and how her freckles seemed to stand out more against her skin. She noticed how Max’s fingers twitched like they did when she was in a deep sleep. She realized how cold Max’s skin still felt despite being under three blankets. 

Chloe clicked off the lights with a scoot here, laid down, and pulled closer to Max, resting her head halfway on each bed. She checked her phone. It was only 8:30. She wrote Joyce to check in, pulled another blanket out of the bag Kate had brought, and got up again to quickly change from her regular clothes into pajamas.  _ At least they’re warm. _ With a final settling down, she felt herself drifting off quicker than she thought possible, but the day  _ had _ been long and arduous. She found herself dreaming - no, thinking about a conversation a few months ago. 

_ “Chloe?” Max fiddled with her hands the way she did when she was nervous. _

_ Butterflies gave way to straight up indigestion. She tried to keep her tone even. “What’s up, Mad Max?” _

_ She smiled a little. God. Those pink lips and those pearly teeth. Max’s smile could chase all the nightmares away. “Can we talk about something?” She paused. “It’s nothing to worry about. I just need to get something off my chest.” _

_ “Sure, man.” Chloe kept it short. Her fear couldn’t fuck with her words if she said less. Chloe had been worried for a few weeks that Max would realize how screwed up she was and would decide to leave her.  _

_ “I’ve… been trying really hard to not rewind since…” She swallowed and looked away, her face going pale a few more shades than normal. Seeing her like that hurt. “Anyway, I’ve been trying really hard to not rewind. I did for a while after, and… Chloe, it’s so hard. I felt like I was in control over it, and then, I wanted to do it for no reason other than I could. It felt so… good. It feels so good.  The feeling that you can always make the right choices, that you can always say the right thing...  To not have to worry so much about consequences.” She shuddered and closed her eyes. “It’s so easy to fall back into doing it. It always feels like such an option when anything goes wrong. I-” _

_ “Max, you don’t have to do this to yourself.” Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat. “I understand.  In... my own way, I guess.” _

_ Sadness filled Max’s eyes, but she continued. “I wish you didn’t… I just realized after a while that I couldn’t control it, no matter what I thought, and that I was just playing with fire. Eventually, all this rewinding would hurt me somehow, but I just… can’t stop it by myself. I feel like it’s the only option anymore. I feel like…” _

_ Chloe’s jaw tightened, and her teeth ground. “It’s an addiction, Max.” _

_ She didn’t disagree. “Talking about it helps, I guess. I don’t feel as alone.” _

_ Compassion broke through Chloe’s walls as she took Max’s trembling hands in her own. “You aren’t alone. Listen, Max. Please come to me if you start struggling with this.” _

_ “Chloe, I can’t do it again… I’ll fall back into the pattern and my head…” _

_ “I know, Max. I know.” She pulled Max close to her chest and comforted the small girl. _

_ “It isn’t an option anymore,” she whispered. _

_ “I promise I won’t somehow mysteriously get fucked by the cosmos again, if I can help it.” _

_ Max laughed through her tears. Laughter was good. Even if tears were attached. “Please try.” _

_ “Hey, Max?” Her throat felt tight, like tears threatened to fall from her own eyes.  _

_ “Yeah, Chloe?” _

_ “I’m always here for you.” _

_ Max squeezed Chloe tighter, burying her face in Chloe’s neck. “I’m always here for  _ **_you_ ** _." _

_ “And Max?” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “I love you.” _

_ The silence stretched a century long. _

_ “I love you, too, Chloe.” _


	11. Hum Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> We love you guys. Promise. This hurts us more than it hurts you.
> 
> (No illustration because class started this week and Sid is only human.)  
> -Ben

The first thing Max noticed was how cold she was.  The second, that it was dark.  Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself on her back, staring up the trunk of an enormous old tree, its height disappearing into fog.  The ground beneath her was rough and uneven, and something that felt suspiciously like a rock dug into the small of her back. The scent of earthy decay met her nose.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, looking around.  She was in... a forest?  Maybe the forest near the lighthouse, but visibility was too low to tell.  Tendrils of mist snaked around the edges of her vision almost like a living thing and set to dancing and swirling by the quiet pulse of her breath.  It was an eerie effect, as though the world wasn't quite real here.

How had she gotten here?  The last thing she remembered was.... what  _ was _ the last thing she remembered?  Waking up, she supposed.  Christmas morning.

A bird screeched somewhere in the distance, the sound echoing emptily through the trees.  Max jumped, startled, and pushed herself to her feet, leaves and other forest debris clinging to her clothes.  The fog was so thick.  She couldn't see more than a dozen yards in any direction, and there weren't any landmarks to help orient herself.  She couldn't even tell from which way the sun lit the area; it all seemed covered in the same hollow white light.

Thinking was hard; like trying to run through knee deep molasses.  Possible, but difficult and sticky.  Unpleasant.  There was something wrong about this place.   _ Where am I? _

"Hello?" she screamed into the air.  The fog seemed to swallow her voice before it even had the chance to echo.  "Is anyone there?"  It sounded muffled, even to her.

She shouted again and again, but no one came.  Nothing answered.  Even the strange bird was silent.  Everything was silent.  

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, trying not to panic.

A voice broke the silence, a quiet man's voice.  "They used me."

Max's heart leapt into her throat and she spun, but still, she was alone.

"They all used me."  Again the voice came from behind her, and she spun again.  Nothing but the trunk of a dead tree inches from her face.

"You used me too, Max."  The voice was sad, with a hint of accusation.  

Max stood as still as she could this time, her hands balled into fists to keep herself from shaking.  The voice was so familiar, but...

"Do you know what it's like, Max?"  The voice was wistful.  "Do you know what it's like to die?"

Max was silent.  It couldn't be.  Nathan was-

"Dead?  I know.  Dying..."  The sound of a quiet inhalation.  "You can't possibly imagine.  The pain.  The fear.  The desperation."

Max turned slowly, forcing herself to look one more time.

It was Nathan Prescott, and it wasn't.  Maybe it had been once.  His face was gaunt and withered, his skin pale slipping from his bones.  One eye was filmed over with white; the other burned cold in its socket.  A small, bloody hole marred his forehead - dark, dried flakes spattering around it.  A bullet hole.  He spread its hands wide, palms out.  His previous jacket was dirty and torn, and seemed a size or two too big for him.

An invisible hand closed over Max's throat, and she choked.  She wanted to vomit, and she wanted to run, and she wanted to deny what she was looking at.  But she  _ couldn't. _

"To look down the barrel of a gun," he said, his voice exactly as it was in life. "and to  _ know  _ there's nothing you can do to save yourself."  He laughed bitterly.  "As if saving myself was ever an option.  You always had options, didn't you, Max?"

Max shook her head.  "I don't-"

"Don't  _ lie _ to me!" he suddenly roared, fists clenched, taking a step toward her.  A bitter smile curled his dead lips.  "When you're gone, you get perspective."

"You didn't have options because you were a  _ monster,  _ Nathan!" Max blurted.

" _ I _ was a monster?"  The thing that had been Nathan shook its head.  "Jefferson was the monster.  My father was the monster."  He looked down to the ground, hiding his eyes.  "I was  _ sick.   _ They  _ hurt _ me.  And because of  _ you _ I never had a chance to be saved."

Max gritted her teeth, but a pang hit her gut.  "Tell that to Kate, Nathan.  Tell that to Chloe.  Tell that to  _ Rachel _ ."

Nathan's shoulders shook with silent laughter.  "Jefferson, Jefferson, and Jefferson.  I never had a choice, Max.  I never wanted to hurt anyone.  I never wanted anyone to die. But-"

"But they did die!" Max cried.  "They were hurt!  You don't get to erase that just because you feel bad about it!  That doesn't bring Rachel back!"

Nathan looked up just enough to see her, his cold eyes burning with hate.  "I never.  Had.  A.  Choice."  His voice was low and dangerous.  "I was just as much a victim as they were.  Do you think it started with Jefferson?  My father wanted me to take his place, and that meant being able to hurt people.  It meant taking a kid who was too young to know better and  _ molding _ him!  I fought him every step of the  _ goddamn _ way, but no one is that strong, Max!  No one."  He bared his teeth.  "You wouldn't be any better than I am if you had been raised the way I had.  You'd have killed.  You'd have...."  He gave a hollow laugh.

Max shook her head.  "No.  You're a monster.  You and Jefferson-"  She couldn't make the words come out.  God...  Was she wrong?  Had she been wrong this whole time?  They'd always considered Nathan to be an irredeemable monster who hurt people of his own accord, but...  _ could  _ he have been saved?  That question haunted her sometimes in the night. 

Kate was a victim.  Rachel was a victim.  Chloe was a victim. Max herself was a victim.  But Nathan?  He was the only gray area.  Max gritted her teeth.  "No.  I don't care how they treated you.  You hurt so many people, Nathan.  You deserved what happened.  It was justice."   _ Then why do I keep thinking about it? _

"I never got justice!  You could have given me that!"  Nathan's voice cracked as he looked up at her.  "No one knows how much they hurt me.  No one knows how much I suffered.  How long I fought!"  He stepped forward, balling his hands again.  "You could have told them!  You could have saved me, like you saved them!  Jail, medication, I don't care!  I was so tired, Max!"  He was right in her face, and she could smell him.  Rot.  Decomposition.  Despair.  "I would have let them take me if they could just  _ fix _ me!"

Max opened her mouth to retort, her skin crawling, but she never had a chance.  Nathan screamed, and Max discovered that as emaciated as he looked, death hadn't diminished his strength.  His fist connected with her cheek, and pain shot through her as she found herself spinning through the air.  She hit the tree trunk, hard, and fell to the cold earth with a cry.  

She lay there, dazed. Something deep in her gut told her she deserved this. She tried to move but couldn’t by far. The sky seemed to thin, and the wisps of fog seemed to be tinted red with pain.  She grunted, shifted... and Nathan's boot took her in the stomach.  She doubled over in agony, too breathless to scream, and clawed at the ground.

"I should have shot you when I had the chance, you heartless fucking bitch!"  He kicked her again, and again abject pain filled her world.  "Maybe then I'd still be alive!"  He kicked her again.  "What did you accomplish?"

She coughed, sending pain shooting through her gut, and feebly curled into a ball, hands over her head.  "Nathan.... please..."  Was that blood or spit running down her chin?

"Nothing!  How many people died because of you, Max?"  He was shouting now, and he punctuated every few words with another blow.  "You killed Arcadia Bay!"

Max squeezed her eyes shut tight, and even through the pain she could feel the tears on her face, mingling with the blood and the dirt.  "I'm sorry.... I'm sorry..."  Her voice was so small.  But it was all she had.

"How many people died in the storm you caused, Max?  How many had to die so you could fuck your punk bitch girlfriend?  Was it worth it?   _ Was she worth it?"   _ As Nathan kept screaming, his voice began to change.  At first, it was a subtle undertone, like someone whispering along with his words.  But then one voice became two, and two became four, and by the time he finished, a hundred angry, accusatory voices thundered in her ears.  " **_YOU KILLED US ALL."_ **

"No!"  Max screamed into the uncaring fog until her voice cracked and gave out... and suddenly, there was nothing but silence.  Not a sound or a breath of wind stirred the air.  For a few long minutes, she couldn't do a thing.  All she could do was lie on the ground and cry and hurt.  But finally, when she found the strength to crack one eyelid and look up at where her tormentor had stood... No one was there.

Max's sobs broke into hysterical laughter.  She laughed until she was out of breath, the sound echoing eerily through the trees surrounding her and becoming an unearthly taunt.  Once that petered off into nothing, she was alone.

Surrounded by nothing but her own oppressive silence and guilt.  

The pain had settled deep into her, her whole body burning with it.  The physical wasn't the worst of it.  The worst of it was the  _ doubt. _

The trees around her began to fuzz out of focus, blurring into little more than oppressive streaks of grey and brown.  She blinked, squinting into the distance, her heart pounding.  "What's going-"

* * *

 

"-on...?"  She mumbled, quiet enough that she could hardly hear it herself.  A steady, rhythmic beeping rang in her ears, and the muffled chatter of voices danced around the edges of her consciousness.

Max's eyes fluttered open, and immediately she wished they hadn't.

Bright, blinding light shone down from above, a half dozen suns burning down from the heavens, searing her eyes.  Everything around her, what she could see, was white.  This was no better than the forest.  

She groaned, shifting, squeezing her eyes shut tight to hide from the light.  Relentless pain thudded in her brain to the time of her heart, and even through her eyelids it was too bright.  "The Bright Room..."  She muttered, her words slurred and quiet.  "Out of the Dark Room and into the Bright Room..."  She chuckled softly, but her laughter quickly turned into a hacking cough that sent bolts of agony jarring through her skull.  The coughs gave way to quiet sobs, and the muffled voices grew louder, but no more distinct.

She raised an arm feebly, cracking her eyes again, but there was something hard in her hand preventing her from moving.  Great greenish blurs loomed over her like great angels, judging her for what she'd done.  Even that obscured image wavered through the tears in her eyes.  

She had to get out of here.  She had to-  

Her whole body jerked painfully, and she cried out.  The beeping grew faster and faster, and the incomprehensible voices took on a frantic edge.  She had to move.  Escape.

Everything went black, and for a few blessed moments, nothing hurt.

* * *

 

Max smelled smoke.

She sat bolt upright with a gasp, hands and feet scrabbling at hard asphalt.  It was overcast; dark storm clouds overhead, a heavy wind blowing down the street on which she found herself.  Thick smoke filled the air, and it was all Max could do to keep herself from choking.

Bones littered the street.  They were old and cracked and bleached, and nearly all of them were recognizably human.  Skulls.  Ribs.  Hands.   _ You killed us,  _ the wind whispered in her ear.  Rubble was everywhere.  Smashed cars, broken glass, furrows in the street.  The ghosts of the living walked the sidewalk, faded and translucent cars passed the road.

Max felt herself go white, felt the bile rise in her chest.  It wasn't hard to tell where she was.  She was standing outside the old, wrecked Two Whales Diner, the way it had been after the storm.  A quiet moan came from inside.  The voice was familiar.   _ Joyce...?   _ Fire licked the Windows from inside, and the smoke pouring from the roof nearly obscured the boat that had been thrown through the building.

The cracked, shattered door opened, and a girl walked out as if there was nothing wrong.  A girl Max had never met, but a girl who had been a huge part of her life nonetheless.

Rachel Amber.

She wore the same red-plaid overshirt and jeans that Max had borrowed from Chloe all those months ago, and her blonde hair was straight and long, her makeup immaculate.  She radiated beauty and serenity, but from what Max had heard, that could change on a dime.

Rachel didn't seem to see her at first as she walked out into the street, the ghostly images of cars passing immaterially through the rubble.  She stopped a few feet to Max's side, staring wistfully out into the distance. Smoke swirled around her without seeming to touch her.

She broke the silence, and her voice was quiet and melodic.  "You wanted to be a savior."  It wasn't a question.

It took a moment for Max to find her voice, but her thoughts still felt so  _ slow.   _ "Rachel...?"

Rachel smiled sadly.  "We all want to be the heroine of our own story, Max.  Chloe always thought I needed rescuing.  It's why I never told her about Frank."  She sounded nostalgic.  "She would have wanted to try to save me.  She would have thought that I was being manipulated, or..."  

Max stared up at her.

"It doesn't matter.  The past is the past, and it's hard to care about life when you're dead."  Rachel shrugged, glancing over at Max for the first time.  "I'm here to talk about you."

"Me?"  Max pushed herself slowly to her feet, brushing the dirt off her knees as she did.

"Chloe wanted to save me, but all she did was push me away.  Do you understand?"

Max shook her head.  "I don't understand anything that's happened today."

"You will."  Rachel looked out at the bay.  "Look around, Max.  You wanted to save Arcadia Bay.  What happened?"

Max's mouth went dry, and she couldn't speak.

"Death.  Destruction.  A storm the scale of which Oregon has never seen.  All because you thought we needed saving."

Max shook her head desperately.  "No, I... I never wanted to hurt anybody!  I couldn't have known!"

Rachel tilted her head without turning.  "And what was it you told Nathan?   _ They did die?  You don't get to erase that just because you feel bad?" _

That hurt more than any of Nathan's physical blows ever could have.  Max all but staggered back, her hands moving to cover her suddenly queasy stomach.  "It's not the same.  Nathan hurt people personally.  He went out and drugged and hurt and killed with his own hands.  The storm was just... just an accident, Rachel.  I swear to you it was an accident."

"Was it?"  Rachel idly pushed a strand of hair from her face, an unconscious gesture she must have done a thousand times before.  "Or did part of you know that what you were doing was unnatural?  That nothing good could come of meddling with something as fundamental as time itself?  You had that dream, after all.  Part of you must have felt it."

Max shivered.  Had she?  No.  She hadn't.  But... "You're wrong, Rachel.  I never knew.  I couldn't have known."

"Warren figured it out pretty quick when you told him," Rachel said.  She tilted her head back to look at Max and smiled.  "Relax.  I'm not here to judge.  Death isn't so bad, once you get used to it.  Those hundreds of people are better off now."

"Then..."  Max swallowed.  "Then what are you here for?"

Rachel turned to fully face her.  Her face and her tone were friendly.  "To give you a warning."  Her hand shot out and gripped Max's shoulder like iron, and without even a grunt of effort spun her around to face the Two Whales again.

Except... it wasn't the Two Whales she was looking at.  She was staring up at the Price household, weathered and broken by the storm.  The windows had all shattered inward, and a tree lay slanted upon the roof.  "Wh-... What?"

Rachel's hand was like a vice on Max's shoulder, and it  _ hurt.   _ "You.  Can't.  Save.  Her."

Max shook her head and tried to pull away.  "No!  You're wrong!  She needs me!"

Rachel's grip only tightened.  "You tried to play the savior, Max."   Her voice was cold as ice.  "You tried to play the savior and you became death.  Everything you have touched turns to ash in your grasp."

This time Max tried to turn, and was met with about the same amount of success.  "I saved Kate!"  One of the only unambiguous good things she had done.

"Did you?  Or did you just delay the inevitable?"  Rachel was whispering in her ear now.  "Do you think pulling her off the roof cured her depression?  Do you think she's _ happy _ because of you?  One kind gesture doesn't erase the desire to die so easily.  When will you wake up one day to find out that your rescue was only temporary?"  Rachel sighed, and she raised her voice again.  "Kate isn't the issue.  The issue is Chloe Price."

"No!"  Max jerked forward again, but this time she managed to break free.  She whirled to face Rachel, who only looked vaguely apologetic.  "I love her!  I love her, and I can take care of her, and I can  _ save her!" _

"Like you saved Arcadia Bay?  You've seen what happens to the things you try to save.  You're destroying her."

This time it was Max's turn to take a swing, but her fist passed cleanly through the air where Rachel had stood a moment before.  Without seeming to have crossed the intervening space at all, Rachel stood a few feet to Max's left, looking entirely unruffled.  "Do you know how little she sleeps?  How often she cries when you're unconscious?  How weak and pitiful and  _ helpless _ you make her feel?"

Max spun to face Rachel again, and again took a swing.  Again, Rachel seemed to dodge without moving.  "That isn't true!"

"Ask her.  At least, you could if you two talked anymore.  Now, she probably doesn't trust you enough to let you in that deep."  Rachel casually stuck her hands into her pockets.  "Do you know when the last time her urges were as strong as they are now?  It's been months since she's touched the razor.  Every day, it gets a little harder for her.  Because of you."

Max swung again and again, but each time her fist met only empty air.  She couldn't argue because Rachel was  _ right. _  God help her, she was  _ right _ .  Chloe was falling apart, and their fight this morning only proved that.  

"I never met you, Max.  I don't know you.  I don't  _ care _ about you.  I care about her.  And all I can see is you digging a deeper and deeper hole for her.  And she loves you, so she smiles and hands you the shovel.  The best thing you can do for her is  _ stop _ ."

"No..."  Max hunched slightly, panting with the effort.  "No.  I sacrificed so much for her-"

"And what about what she sacrificed for you?  She didn't know she'd be stuck being your caretaker.  She wanted a friend and a partner, not a burden.  You're tearing her apart."

Max drew her arms in closer, her breath ragged.  "No..."  Her voice was so small.  "We love each other.  We take care of each other."  

Rachel stepped closer.  "Then why is she so miserable?"

The question was a slap to the face.  Max sank down to her knees, and again she could feel the tears fill her eyes.  Chloe... She had hurt Chloe so badly, and she had been too selfish to see it.   Some girlfriend she was.

Some friend.

Rachel gently touched her back, and in a whisper that sounded as loud as a thunderclap, in a hundred voices, said " **_YOU CAN'T SAVE HER."_ **

Max screamed until everything went white.

* * *

 

Again, bright light filled her vision.  Her face was wet.  Where was she?  Had she been crying?  No, that felt like blood on her lips.  Her head hurt so  _ badly _ .

The towering shapes around her were frantic.  They spoke in thundering voices, and she could only catch a few words here and there.

"...aking up..."

"...her IV..."

"...bleeding again... ipe... face-"

Something cold and wet rubbed at her face, and she stirred, squeezing her eyes shut tight and whimpering quietly.

For a moment, she feared that the shapes would cover her nose and her mouth, smothering her.  It would fit right in with the harrowing experiences she'd just had.  She tried to snatch away, but again she simply lacked the energy to escape.

One of the figures leaned in close, speaking in soft tones.  "...axine?"  Max's eyes struggled open again, and this time she could see a blurred, featureless face looming over her.  Her vision fuzzed and wavered, and the voice seemed to come in and out like a radio with bad reception.  "Maxine, do... hear me?"  The voice was soothing, but it quickly turned and barked something at the others.  

Max whimpered again, trying desperately to force her eyes to focus, to think, to remember.  She'd been with...

The voice was speaking to her again.  Max blinked up at the face.  It looked so... unnatural.  The voice was calm, but that face... What kind of being didn't have a nose or a mouth?

She opened her mouth to try to speak, slurred the word, "Rachel..." and stopped as her eyes rolled back into her head.

The voice grew frantic as everything faded to black.

* * *

 

The storm had begun.

Max stood, as she had so many times before, beside the lighthouse.  Rain poured down in sheets, the clouds roiling overhead.  The wind whipped, the tornado raged in the bay...

And all Max felt was tired.

She was so tired.

She remembered everything, but most of all, she remembered the fight.  She'd tried to save Arcadia Bay, and all she had to show for it were nightmares and funerals.  And for what?  If Chloe wasn't gone, she would be soon.  Everything she'd been through, everything she'd done... it had all been for her.

"Or was it for yourself?"  Another familiar voice from beside her.  Max didn't have to look to know that it was herself.

Max was silent for a long few moments, simply staring out over the water.  Somewhere behind her, a tree cracked and shattered, peppering her with chips of wood.  She didn't move.  "It was always for Chloe."  Even her voice was exhausted.

The dream Max was quiet.  "Your subconscious is smart.  You should listen to her."

"My subconscious is a bitch."  Max sighed tiredly.  "Just fuck off and let me rest."

"No rest for the wicked, Maxine."  Her double's voice was quietly sympathetic.  "We don't get to rest after what we've done.  We don't deserve it."

"It wasn't-"

"It  _ was _ our fault, and you know it.  You tried so hard to change fate, and for what?  A girlfriend who resents you?  Panic attacks?"  The other Max lifted a hand and gestured at the storm.  "A lifetime of watching them die, over and over again?"

Max shook her head.  "I made my choices.  I have to live with the consequences."

" _ Can _ you?"

The rain plastered their hair to their heads.  Lightning streaked overhead, illuminating them for a brief moment, then burying them in the deep crack of thunder.

"I have to.  I don't have any other options."  Max was too tired even to cry.  

"You're still trying to save everyone.   _ That's  _ a choice."  

"What are you saying?"

The other Max finally turned her head to look at her for the first time.  "We're suffering because we're  _ trying _ .  We do have a choice.  We do have a way out.  Let it all go, Max.  Chloe, Blackwell, the bay...  Let them go.  You can't save them, Max.  You can't save  _ anyone _ .   _ We _ can't save anyone."

Max was silent again.  "I can't give up.  I've been through too much.  I love them too much."

"How long will they still love us?  How much longer will Chloe put up with us?  You saw the way she exploded.  And now you've gone and rewound yourself into a coma.  How will she take that?"

Max's eyes widened.  "That's not-"

"Maybe you don't remember passing out with blood pouring from your nose, but I do.  I remember the hospital.  That's where we are now."

"I only wanted to help-"

The other Max rolled her eyes and mimicked her.  " _ I only wanted to help _ . I think we've more than established that what you  _ meant _ to do doesn't matter.  You gave in.  You hurt yourself.  And that hurt everyone around you.  Do you see how your actions have consequences?  You can't rewind this away."

Down in Arcadia Bay, a building exploded.  Flames erupted from the roof and every window, and nearly as quickly were extinguished by the heavy wind and rain.  Debris was sucked up into the storm, more deadly ammunition for the tornado.  A moment later, the roar reached them.  Max raised a hand in front of her face, but her double was absolutely unruffled.

Max shook her head.  "I can't think like that.  I can't focus on the past.  All I can do is live the best I can."

"But you  _ do _ live in the past.  You can't escape it."  The other Max gestured again, and for the briefest of moments Max thought she could see Chloe's face in the boiling clouds, her face twisted into fear and pain.  "All of this is because you can't.  Let.  Go.   _ Stop trying. _  The best thing you can do for her is  _ leave.   _ The scales are balanced.  The storm saw to that.  She isn't in any danger, Max.  Except from  _ you _ ."

"I'm not leaving her."  Max stared out at the whirling storm, her eyes hard.  She could barely feel the rain beating down against her.  All she felt was cold and tired.

"Then you'll kill her," Max's double said simply.

Max blinked, and the two of them stood back in the alternate timeline, where a broken Chloe lay on her bed, tears in her eyes, begging for an end to the suffering.  The breathing apparatus hissed quietly.  Outside, rain poured down, debris flying past. The storm hadn't stopped.

The other Max sat by the bed, holding Chloe's hand, her face compassionate.  The scene hit Max like a punch to the gut, and she nearly doubled over.  "No.  This was a mistake.  This was-"

"Another instance of you hurting her, Max."  The double said gently.  "This isn't abuse.  This is far beyond that.  You break her and you put her back together and you break her again.  How many more times?  How many until you learn?  Does she have to die?  Permanently?"

On the bed, Chloe took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut tight.  A rivulet of tears glimmered on one of her cheeks.  Slowly, fumblingly, her hands searched out and found the other Max's, and she clung tight.  "Max..."  Her voice was barely a whisper, and it wasn't hard to tell how much of an effort it was to speak.  "I don't... don't have long...  Weeks.  Maybe days..."  She opened her eyes, but instead of looking at the double, her eyes bored into Max's.  "It hurts so badly, and the pain... it's only going to get worse."  She shuddered.  "So much worse..."

Max couldn't speak.  Her mouth was dry as a bone.  She shivered, that familiar pain lodged in her stomach.  This wasn't what had happened.  But it was close enough.

"I'm selfish.  I know.  But Max... I want it to end.  So badly.  You've done... so much for me..."  Chloe's voice shook.  "But you can't stop this.  I want out.  I want out before it gets to where I can't breathe for the screaming...  You understand that, Max?  Don't you?"  She exhaled slowly, tilting her head to stare up at the ceiling.  "Sometimes, giving up is the right thing to do.  I fought so hard for every breath, Max, but I can't do it anymore.  I have to let it go."  Her voice cracked, and she had to stop for a moment to recompose herself.  

"Chloe, you can't die."  Max knew this wasn't real, that she wasn't really watching Chloe beg for death... but it was so hard to not play along with the hideous vision.  "I love you.  I  _ love you.   _ Things will be alright-"

"Things will never be alright, Max."  Her voice was calm, but tears ran freely down her face.  "That's what... what you never could understand.  Even when we were kids.  Sometimes things just... need to end.  You tried.   _ We _ tried.  But it doesn't matter.  You need to let me go."

Max shook her head fiercely, and she stepped forward to put her hands on the end of Chloe's bed.  "No!  I'm  _ never _ letting go, Chloe.  Don't say that.  We'll figure something out, we'll-"

Chloe broke into a coughing fit, each spasm obviously causing her great pain.  When she recovered, her face was pale.  "You did everything you could," she said gently.  "It just wasn't meant to be."

"I..."  Max couldn't find the words.  Her throat was tight.  She could feel sweat glisten on the back of her neck.  Her face was pale, her eyes were filled with tears... She couldn't stop herself from shaking.  

"She's telling you the truth," Max's double said quietly.  "This is what you need to learn.  This is what I'm trying to tell you.  You need to let her go."  She looked down at Chloe, and reached out with one hand to caress her cheek.  Chloe's eyes closed, almost contentedly.  "Stop trying to save her.  Stop trying to be the hero.  Let her rest."

Max trembled.  She had to-  If she could just-  If only- There was no way around it.  Nothing she could see.  The future stretched out before her, gray and grim.  Decades of nothing but misery, of hurting Chloe over and over, of pain that  _ she _ caused, of her desperate efforts to make Chloe happy, but only breaking her further.  Was this what she was?  Was this her story?  The girl who tried too hard, and in the end, broke everything?

Chloe.  She couldn't feel her emotions because of Max.  She had to hide them.  Because Max was oh so fragile, because Max needed to be taken care of, because Chloe felt  _ responsible _ .  That was her fault.  

There was no escaping her sins.  No escaping the damage she'd caused, the hurt she'd done to her friends.  She was more of a monster than Nathan ever was, worse even than Jefferson.  They had hurt people.  Hurt them badly.  But what they had done paled in comparison with the deaths of hundreds, with Joyce's legs and Warren's arm and the razing of an entire town.  

How must it feel to know that the person you loved had done so much evil in your name?  How must that wear on Chloe?  The fear that any day, something would happen that would require Max to go back to using her power for her sake? How unworthy and guilty must she feel every single day because of the choices Max had made?

What was the point, if all she did was ruin?  Why  _ should _ she keep trying?  Maybe... Maybe the best thing to do for Chloe really would be to let her go.  Maybe...

Maybe.  That was what this was all about, wasn't it?  Max's whole life the past few months had been playing the odds, time after time.  Most times she'd lost.  But she hadn't chosen to receive her powers.  There had to be a reason.  Maybe the storm itself was as destined as Chloe's death was.  There was no way to know, was there?  She'd done everything she could, and not once had she consciously chosen to hurt someone else.

Actions and consequences.  When you make the choice to pull a trigger, the consequences are obvious.  A bullet is fired, perhaps into another person.  You are responsible for what happens.

But she'd been given a power she didn't understand.  It didn't come with any divine message or instruction manual.  Nothing could have possibly led her to extrapolate that the consequences of using her power would be to cause a rift in time itself.  Could she blame herself for that?

Yes, she could.  She could hold herself to that standard.  That would likely always haunt her.  Her choices had led to so much death.  But did it make her a monster?  That was what she had to ask herself.  

Set that aside.  Chloe.  Chloe had been hurt, but the alternative was death.  Wasn't this better than leaving her to die?  That was the action with consequences she could see.   It had been an utterly selfless act.  

Lightning flashed, blinding light illuminating the room and the three of them.  Thunder crashed outside, shaking the walls of the house.  Chloe whimpered quietly.

What is a relationship?  A series of actions and consequences.  Questions and answers.  Living selflessly for another person.  Had she done that?  No.  She'd hardly spared a thought as to how Chloe had been dealing with Max's mental illness.  It was time to change that.

Time.  This was all about  _ time.   _ Did she have time to make up for what she had done?  Did she have time to repair what she'd broken?  Was this the end of her life?  Would her legacy be nothing but suffering?  Or could she build something greater?  She could help people.  Starting with Chloe, she could help people.  She just had to take that first step.

Max stood straight, her fists clenched at her sides, her jaw set.  "I'm not giving up.  I'm not giving up on you, and I'm not giving up on myself.   _ I love Chloe. _  She is the light of my life and my best friend and my strongest ally."  She turned to her double and jabbed a finger at her.  "You may be my subconscious, but all you are is a voice in my head.  A selfish one.  The pet that can only think about myself.  Well I'm _ more than that _ .  I'm more than fight or flight.  I'm  _ Max Caulfield _ , and you can't stop me from being with the person I love!

Sure, it's not always happy.  We fight.  We argue.  We get sad.  But who doesn't?  This world isn't about making yourself happy every moment of your life.  It's about everything.  Taking the good with the bad.  Doing the  _ best _ we can.   We're still learning to love each other, but that's okay."  She might never love herself again.  Forgiveness for her sins was out of the question.  But Chloe loved her.  That, she had never doubted.  And if Chloe loved her, could she truly be as monstrous as she felt?

Max's double narrowed her eyes, and the room grew darker.  Thunder rumbled again.

"Chloe deserves to be happy.  I'm not perfect.  I never will be.  But I can be good for her.  I can be  _ better _ ."  Max let her hand fall to her side, and she looked down at the ground.  "I can be better than you."

The whole room seemed to shake for a moment, and Max was nearly thrown from her feet.  Something outside the room crashed, and everything rattled painfully loudly.

Max looked up to find her double standing before her, fists clenched, shaking with rage.  

Max met her own gaze and stood tall.  "I'm not giving up."

Silence stretched out.  Neither of them moved.  Neither of them spoke.  

Then Max blinked, and when her eyes opened again, the other Max was simply gone.  

"Don't say we didn't warn you," a voice whispered into her ear.  "Nothing has changed what you are."

Max didn't flinch, even as light filled the room and buoyed her back to consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the world go round. (and writing easier)


	12. Strange Companions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've got a little bad news this week. Since Sid and I have both started classes again, we've been a little overwhelmed, and it's hard to balance a chapter a week with all our work at the moment. So Life Goes On is taking a short hiatus. Not a long one, don't worry, it's not going away. Life Goes On will return in four weeks, on February 14th. We haven't lost our passion, we're just tired people.
> 
> Thank you for your understanding! We still love you all.  
> -Ben

Coming back to herself took time.  The blurry shapes around her resolved into a doctor and a trio of nurses, and the steady beeping revealed itself to be a machine keeping track of her pulse.  Once she was awake and fully lucid, the doctor had excused everyone from the room to explain the situation.  

An aneurysm.  That was what he'd said, wasn't it?  It sounded so clinical like that.  It was kind of funny, in a way.  She thought she should be distressed.  Afraid.  Hysterical.  But right now, all she felt was numb.

Numbness and guilt.  Guilt for what she had put Chloe through.  Guilt at letting her self control slip.   _ What did I do?  How many times did I...   _ She wasn't even sure.  Half a dozen?  At least.  Everything after the fight was a desperate blur.

Once the explanation was done, the doctor began to ask her a few uncomfortable questions about her relationship with Chloe and their activities, as well as her own.  Did she and Chloe ever fight?   _ Only once, but it was enough.   _ Did Chloe ever touch her when she was upset?   _ Unimaginable.  _  Had she had any recent head injuries, accidental or otherwise?   _ Only a fatal lack of self control.   _ She seemed very suspicious of Chloe, and Max had a hard time wrapping her head around it.   _ Do they really think she did this to me? _

Max was distressed by the interrogation, and in the end, the doctor had to call in a few nurses to administer a mild sedative before her high blood pressure could exacerbate the head trauma. The doctor’s questions stopped after that.  Her sleep was dreamless.

They kept her sedated until the next morning.  When she woke, Chloe was right there by her side, gripping her hand tight.  The room spun a little, she was nauseous, and the medication made her a bit foggy, but she knew where she was almost instantly.

Once Max's eyes had fluttered open, Chloe had practically thrown herself onto Max, her eyes already filled with tears.  "Oh, thank god..." She into Max's chest, her voice muffled and cracked.  "Don't you ever do that to me again..."  She trailed off into sniffles, holding Max tight.

Max, still slightly bewildered, held Chloe close. It had been the first time her rebellious girlfriend had accepted that kind of help since… Ever. 

Max had always leaned on Chloe's shoulder, but this time, Chloe had finally let herself lean back. Max thought back to the junkyard, when they'd found Rachel's body.  It felt so long ago.  Like something that had happened to someone else.  _ She wanted a friend and a partner, not a burden.   _ Even then, Chloe had withdrawn into herself rather than reaching out, barely accepting or even acknowledging Max's best efforts to comfort her.  

Chloe had always been that way.  At William’s funeral, all those years ago, Max had offered Chloe a hand, but Chloe had just stood silently, eyes on her father's casket, tears streaming down her face. She'd denied herself any external comfort.  When Chloe suffered, she withdrew.  She isolated herself.  This was the first time Chloe had  _ needed _ her like this. 

That just pointed out the severity of what Max had done. 

A few hours after Max woke up, Chloe drove them home. The headache Max was nursing stayed mostly low grade as they passed through a pharmacy drive through for her new prescriptions.  Anti-inflammatories and a steroid she couldn't pronounce.  When was the last time she'd been to a  _ pharmacy? _  She'd always been healthy.  As they drove home, Chloe's silence became oppressive.  She had nothing to do but think.  To remember.

Thinking about what had happened… It left Max with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to talk to Chloe about it, but she didn't know if she should. Worry and fear gnawed at her insides at the prospect of needing to broach the subject. What would she say anyway?  _ Hey, sorry for nearly killing myself because you were mad at me.   _ That was a great idea.  They hadn't spoken since leaving the hospital. The coiling fear wrapped itself around her throat like an insidious corkscrew threatening to suffocate her. 

“Chloe, am I a monster?” The words came out without conscious effort. Heat rose in Max's cheeks and she felt slightly lightheaded.  She remembered her dreams all too clearly, and that question had been circling through her mind since the moment she'd woken up.   _ Things will never be alright, Max.  That's what you never understood. _

Chloe jerked the steering wheel slightly to the right, toward a snow bank. “What?” Her voice was soft and quiet. Something in it made tears prick at Max's eyes. 

Max swallowed the barbed wire in her throat. “Do you-”

“I know what you said, Max, but it doesn't make sense. Why would I think of you as a monster?”  Her voice was strained, confused... and a little hurt?

Max tried to ignore the hollow pop of Chloe's knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel harder, her knuckles turning white. “D-do you blame me for what happened to Rachel?”

“Max…” Chloe reached a hand toward her. When had she started shaking?

“Just answer me.” She tried to make her voice sound firm, but instead, it broke midway through the second word. 

Chloe sounded incredulous, but she didn't try to glance over at her.  “No, Max. Why would I blame you for that…?”

“Because I… It isn't rational but…” Her voice started to shake with the rest of her. “I'm tangled in this mess and I just-”

“You aren't responsible for what happened to her.” Chloe's voice barely reached above a whisper. After she cleared her throat, she spoke again. “Man, yeah you could rewind, but what good would it do? It was three months before you came around. Not even you could go back and fix that.” 

She got quiet again. Max couldn't think of anything to say back. She was too busy using herself as a mental punching bag.  

“Max,” Her voice was so pained and careful. “What happened yesterday…?”

The question. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed a hot rock and washed it down with acid. What  _ had _ happened?

Max took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  “We had a really big fight.” 

_ There's more to it than that,  _ one part of her hissed. 

_ I can't tell her, though. I have to keep it to myself so she doesn't worry,  _ said another part.  _ She has enough to worry about.  _

Max didn't miss Chloe's eyes flicker over to her briefly before returning to the road. “What about?” She was trying to sound casual.  Max could hear how forced it was.

“It doesn't matter,” Max felt herself say. God, she wanted to tell Chloe everything, but what would it do to her? Would the honesty be worth the cost? She'd spent so much time concerned about herself that she'd completely ignored Chloe's reactions before. A tiny part of her whispered,  _ That's not true _ , but it was quickly drowned by doubt. 

Chloe's voice rose out of nowhere. “If it was a big enough deal for you to… To  **_relapse_ ** , then I think it does matter!” She slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. Her breaths came quick and heavy from her flared nostrils. Her eyes welled and glistened with fresh tears. Her next words sank back into the near whisper they had been before. “ _ Talk _ to me, Max.  _ Please _ .”

Max tried to speak, but her tongue felt thoroughly, expertly glued to the roof of her mouth. 

“I'm… I'm sorry, Max.” Chloe angrily wiped at the tears in her eyes. “You need me to be tough right now.”

That was enough to unstick her tongue.  “ **_This_ ** . That's what it was about. This.” Words tumbled from her mouth as she gesticulated wildly at Chloe, and she secretly wondered what truth serum the hospital had injected into her as a sick joke. “How I never let you have a bad day. How I dump everything on you and take and take and take. How I  _ burden _ you.” The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over, but hot anger forced them down. “How you hide your needs in order to… to  _ save  _ me or something.”

The silence after her words became almost painful in a span of milliseconds. Chloe didn’t respond immediately, and she looked as drained as if she'd had to physically grapple with the words Max had thrown down, rather than just listening.

The words kept flowing after a pause. “I’m not fair to you, Chloe. I’m not fair to you, and I’m not fair to us. I haven’t been considerate to you. Hell, I haven’t even… I haven’t even tried to think about anyone other than myself.  My own problems.  I never realized for a second how bad you felt...” Tears threatened again, and this time, Max couldn’t bite them back. They spilled over and speckled the grey jacket she wore. “Chloe, I-I saw… things… when I was in the hospital. I saw things that just showed me what I really am... They were all right. E-every one of them. All I do is hurt y-you.”

Quiet sobs wracked her body. The cold crept in despite the blazing heater and multiple layers of clothes. Chloe said nothing back. Max’s head thumped lightly on the side of the truck door with every shaky inhale. The only sounds were her crying, the humming heater, and the loud road. 

“Max…” Chloe’s strangled voice broke. “You could have died…”

That’s all she said. How could Max say anything back to that? If Nathan, Rachel, and her other self were right, she would only hurt everyone. She thought she had overcome those thoughts, but distance from the dreams didn’t provide a distraction. It lead her to doubt. Her resolve that she’d built against it weakened and shattered when needing to confront Chloe.

_ I just keep falling apart. How could Chloe want something this…  _

_ take this back tak _ e  _ it back rewind and erase this stupid fight just one more rewind one more you can fix this _

**_ALWAYS TAKE THE SHOT_ **

_...broken...? _

Chloe reached her hand over to Max’s shoulder and pulled her slightly over. “Stop hitting your head, doofus.”

Not a single trace of hostility tinted her words.

Shortly after, Chloe pulled into the driveway and let the engine run for a minute before speaking again. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now because I’m bad at that kind of thing, but I do know that I know you. I know you think I’m being circuitous but-”

Max snorted out a laugh. “ _ Circuitous? _ ”

“Hey, I read a book once!” She smiled, but never looked Max’s way. “Anyway, I  _ do _ know you, Max. Right now, you’re beating yourself up for this whole thing. You think that you’ve put me in a shitty situation or keep hurting me or something.”

Max looked down at her hands, which she’d folded in her lap.

“I’m… not great with coming to you when I need to. I’ll admit that.” She shrugged. “Max, you aren’t a burden to me.” The spot between her eyebrows wrinkled the way it did when she was thinking pretty hard. “I always want to be strong for you even at a detriment to myself.”

“ _ Detriment _ ?”

“Okay, I’ve read two books before.” She smiled and looked over at Max for only a second before shifting her gaze to the window and beyond. "All I'm trying to say is-" Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open before she pointed a finger to the window. “ **_CAT_ ** .”

Max whipped her head around and felt the world tip sideways a little. Chloe caught her from leaning too far and laughed. “Take it easy, you drunk.”

“Wheresakittycat” The words were mushed and tangled. 

Max’s vision, though blurred, settled on a small grey figure in the snow. She lifted a hand to her head as a new throb of headache came barging in. It was the kitten they had been seeing for the last month or so. At least, that’s what Max thought. It really could have been any greyish blob wriggling in the snow, but Chloe’s reaction said it was the kitten. A bright spot in the dark. Or rather. The dark spot in the snow. 

Chloe bailed out of the truck, which she left running, and waddled toward the kitten. She stealthily approached it, picked it up, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket.  The kitten howled in righteous indignation.  Smiling like they hadn’t just been in deep conversation less than a minute ago, Chloe opened the door to the still running truck and assisted Max down onto the concrete, cutting the engine from the passenger’s side. 

Still a little dizzy, Max swayed in the nonexistent breeze. Chloe’s disposition had changed so fast… She felt determined not to let it go this time. Chloe wrapped an arm around Max’s shoulders and kissed her forehead, kitten still yowling in her pocket. Chloe’s excitement was almost tangible. She’d really wanted to take in the kitten when it started coming around, and now it sat grumpily in her clothes like a petulant cat child. What Max could see of the animal was dirty and wet.  It looked underfed, and it wasn't wearing a collar.   _ Poor pathetic baby.  Me too, bud.   _ Stabilizing herself on Chloe’s shoulder, Max tottered up the steps and let herself into the warm comfort of the Price house.

 

“Princess Monster Truck.” Chloe offered, looking over her steaming cup of hot chocolate. 

“Chloe, we aren't naming our cat after a meme.” Max rolled her eyes and huffed but smiled as she stroked the playful ball of fluff.  It had taken a bit of wrangling to get the kitten inside, but once she had been out of the cold, she'd settled down surprisingly quickly.  

“What about Amanda?” Joyce called out from the kitchen. 

Max looked over at Chloe, who shrugged and grunted. “Too normal of a name. Think of someone asking, ‘How's Amanda doing?’ And everyone around you thinks you're talking about a dear sick aunt, but then you say, ‘Amanda got into the garbage last night and kept us up with her yowling. Jesus we need to get Amanda fixed.’ That would be weird and you know it.”

A snort of laughter came from the kitchen. Max giggled too. Things felt strangely normal all things considered. 

“We could name her Deckard and no one would be the wiser,” Max suggested helpfully. 

Chloe slammed her fist down on the table in excitement, earning a confused and started jump and yowl from the cat. “HARRISON FORD.”

“Chloe, it's a female cat.”

“ _ Who  _ **_cares_ ** ?” Her arms flailed before going back to soothe the bitey ball of fur. “Think of how genuinely ironically hilarious that would be.” She lowered her voice and shook a stern finger at the cat. “Harrison Ford, get off the top of the fridge.”

Happiness disguised as butterflies welled up in Max's stomach. They came out in burbles of laughter deep from her belly. Chloe began laughing too. Within a few minutes, laughter turned into Laughter ft. Tears and then wheezing. The glow on Chloe’s cheeks is what caught Max off guard - a deep happiness that showed through only from time to time. Things might be looking up.

All thanks to fussy little Harrison Ford. 


	13. House of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! We hope you didn't miss us too much while we were gone! We certainly missed you.
> 
> Announcements: We are going to go from posting every week to every other week. Sidney and I are just very busy, and we haven't had as much time to write as we'd like. It's probably not what y'all want to hear, but it'll take some of the stress off of us. With both of us in college, there's a lot of that going around. Also, we're going to be posting on Sundays from here on out! Mark your calendars! 
> 
> The next chapter will be posted on February 28th!
> 
> We also have a Spotify playlist for this story! Check it out at https://open.spotify.com/user/thesilvergoddess/playlist/2hz7rZ7v0EmalzjFiRi0oo !  
> -Ben

**[12/26 12:31 Max are you awake?  Chloe isn't responding to my messages and I'm really worried!]**

Max's eyes widened, and she turned to punch Chloe in the shoulder.  "You didn't tell Kate I woke up?"

"Ow!"  Chloe rubbed at it, glowering back at her.  "My phone was dead!"

Max groaned.  "You could have _told_ me, numbskull.  She's probably been falling all over herself worried."  She started tapping out a response.   **[12/26 12:32 oh gosh kate im so sorry!  im awake and im feeling pretty okay.  just a headache now. >.<  ill call u in a bit to fill you in <3]**

Chloe leaned back on the couch, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table.  "Hey Max, my phone's dead.  Can you tell Kate?"

Max sighed.  "You're hopeless."

"Hey, it's part of my charm.  Quit fuckin' it up."  Chloe grinned as she looked down at Harrison Ford.  

The kitten was curled up in a little ball of fur in the center of the coffee table, snoring quietly.  They'd cleaned her up, so she wasn't quite so ratty anymore, but her poor little ribs poked out from under her skin. Her shoulder blades looked like they could poke right through. She had needed food so badly.  They hadn't had any cat food in the house - they still didn't - so they'd fed her a small saucer of water and a nibble of cut up leftover meat.

Max leaned into Chloe, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.  "I do love you.  You... you know that, right?"

Chloe slid her arm around Max and gave her shoulder a squeeze.  "Of course I do."

Max was quiet for a long moment, just watching the slow rise and fall of the kitten's chest.  "Do..."  She sighed.  "I know you don't want me to say this kind of thing.  But do you feel trapped?"

Chloe shook her head vigorously.  "No, Max.  I... feel trapped by a lot of things.  But not you.  Never you."

"But-"

Chloe pressed a finger to her lips.  "Don't say it, babe."  She rolled her shoulder.  "Look, I kind of... cut us off when we tried to talk earlier.  I want to try to say my piece."

Max nodded, and her cool fingers found Chloe's warm hand.  "Okay."

"Hopefully this'll come out better than it did yesterday."  Max could hear the feeble smile on Chloe's lips.  "Sometimes I do get... frustrated.  But not at you.  I get frustrated with.... " She waved her free hand vaguely.  "The situation.  I hate seeing you in pain, Max.  I want to help you, and I don't always know how. Sometimes that comes out wrong, and that frustration comes out on you."

"But yesterday, you said-" Max began.

Chloe tried to shush her.

Max wouldn't let her.  "Yesterday you said that I never let you have your own problems.  You pretty much said you felt trapped."

Chloe rubbed at the back of her head.  "I say a lot of things when I'm upset.  I'm not... always the most rational person.  Granted.  Just because I said it doesn't mean I mean it.  I'm kind of a bitch when I'm upset.  I wasn't really there for the fight, but... I know how I felt yesterday morning.  I was tired and upset.  What else is new?  I've been tired and upset since the day my dad died.  You were just... a convenient target. I'm not the greatest at directing my anger in a focused direction, so it's kind of a shotgun spread. And I'm sorry."

Max considered her words.  Harrison Ford chirped and rolled onto her back, stubby little legs waving in the air. Trust. "You're minimizing what you feel again, Chloe.  I've spent so much time thinking about how sad I was that I never took a second to consider how you were affected by it.  I know it's hard for you.  I know it's hard for you to see me like this, and I know it's hard to take care of me even when you feel so awful yourself.  Chloe, I just want you to know that I'm here for you, just as much as you're here for me.  I can't promise I'll get any better anytime soon."  She shuddered.  "Especially considering... considering what I did yesterday.  But I promise that I'm never going to forget about you."

Chloe was quiet for a moment.  "It... helps to hear it.  I guess a part of me is always a little afraid that you'll disappear again, you know?"  She sighed.  "No, wait, that sounds shitty too.  Just-"

Max shook her head.  "No, Chloe.  I did a really bad thing because I was young and scared and stupid. I left and didn’t even try to keep in contact then. I abandoned you when you needed me the most."

Chloe was silent, taking the opportunity to bend forward and gently scratch Harrison Ford under the chin.  "I guess neither of us is perfect."

"No one is, dummy."  Max sat back to lean her body against her girlfriend's.  "But we love each other.  Right?"

Chloe didn't hesitate.  "Right."

"We both have problems.  But we both have each other too.  As hard as it is now.... Chloe, I don't know where I would be without you here by my side."  Her hand found Chloe's and squeezed tightly.  

"Stop, you're gonna make me cry," Chloe whined with a smile, "and that'll ruin my big tough punk attitude."  But she squeezed Max's hand just as hard in return.

"It's okay.  Crying is punk."

"What?  No, it isn't."

"Crying is _totally_ punk.  I mean, punk is basically whining about the government and parents and stuff anyway, right?"

Chloe blinked.  "I... wouldn't put it that way?  At all?"  She snorted quietly.  "But whatever you say, hipster."

Max stuck her tongue out at Chloe.  "Deal with it."  A thought struck her, and she nearly choked.  “Chloe, what about my parents?”

“Your parents?” Chloe blinked, as though her train of thought was struggling to switch tracks so quickly.

“My parents!  They need to know what happened!  That I… That I could have…”  She started breathing a little faster as it really hit her.  “They don't know at all, they-”

Chloe put her hand on Max’s cheek and shut her up with a soft kiss.  “Take a breath, girl.”  She smiled encouragingly.  “Mom’s done everything she can to get in touch with them while you were out.  She left a bunch of messages, but we haven't heard back from them yet.”

Max forced her breathing to slow.  “Right. Okay.  Sorry.  Yeah, they're… they're on a cruise right now.  Down in the Bahamas or something.  They probably won't be able to get the messages for a few days.”

Chloe nodded.  “That _would_ explain it.  Don't worry.  They'll know as soon as they can.  They’ll probably freak out, but… my mom’s pretty good at calming people down.”

“Yeah, she definitely is.”  Max’s heart rate had finally returned to normal.  “Sorry for freaking out like that.  I just… hadn't thought about them at all.  Is that selfish?”

Chloe made a face.  “What?  No, that's not selfish at all.  You just went through some bad shit.  It's scary.  It must be even scarier for you, y’know?  It's normal to think about yourself first.  You've only been awake a few hours.”

Max was quiet for a long moment.  “Chloe, I… I could have _died_ .  This isn't just us being sad and stuff, as much as we want it to be.  I…”  She looked down at her left hand, flexing it gently.  “I had an _aneurysm._ It could happen again.  Maybe not the next time or the time after that, but if I keep doing this….”

Chloe shook her head firmly.  “It doesn't matter.  I’m standing by you.”

It was hard to keep herself from digging her fingernails into her palms.  Her hand shook.  “It’s so hard,” she whispered.  “Every time something goes even a little bit wrong… it's there.”

“Max, believe it or not, I know a little bit about what that's like.”  Chloe gently cupped Max’s cheek with one soft hand. Her voice was quiet, subdued.  “The circles I run in… I've had friends who… went through some shit.  Hard drugs.  It has that kind of effect on you, you know?  That feeling of just one more time, of… feeling like you have some control over your situation.”  She paused to consider her words.  Max let her.  “Getting off of them… The detox was hard to watch.  There's not a whole lot you can do for a person who goes cold turkey except to be there for them.  I'm not calling you a druggie.   _I'm_ the druggie here.”  She smiled a little.  “But Max, I keep saying it because it's true.  I'm right here for you.  No matter how hard it gets.  And I'm gonna keep saying it until it gets through that thick nerd skull of yours.”

“Chloe…”  Max felt tears rising in her eyes.  For once, they were tears of joy.  Tears of pride.  How could she have ever gotten so lucky?  What had she ever done to deserve-

The imminent sobbing was interrupted as Harrison Ford suddenly flailed back onto her feet as though she'd just had a bucket of water dumped over her, made a loud meowing sound, and took off like a shot into the kitchen.  Joyce started to greet the cat, but was cut off as something crashed to the ground.  Joyce yelled, but the cat had already disappeared up the stairs.

Max sniffled and wiped at her eyes, smiling.  "I'd better go help your mom.  Follow the cat upstairs and make sure she doesn't eat your weed?"

Chloe saluted.  "On it, boss."

As Chloe heaved herself off the couch, Max leaned forward and gently slapped Chloe’s ass.  Chloe jumped and made a little yipping sound, startled, then whirled back to face Max with her eyes narrowed.  “Oh, you are gonna pay for that later.”  

Max grinned widely up at her.

Chloe snorted and turned to go again.  “There’s hope for you yet, Caulfield.”

Once Chloe had noisily clomped up the stairs - she was still wearing her boots - Max rolled off of the couch with a quiet groan and a wince.  She was feeling much better than she had when she’d woken up at the hospital, but she still had a muted headache pounding away at her temples.  Standing up made it spike for a moment, but after she steadied herself and took a few breaths, it receded.  

When she felt like she could, she walked to the kitchen, to see what the damage was.  It looked like the cat had run wild over the counter, indiscriminately knocking things to the ground.  Most of it was just clutter that needed to be picked up, but a large glass bowl, thankfully empty, had smashed into pieces on the tile.  

Joyce’s wheelchair was parked in the middle of the mess, leaning hard to one side, struggling to pick up a particularly large shard of glass.  She looked like she was exerting herself tremendously.

“Hey, it’s okay!”  Max said, rushing forward.  “I’ve got it, Joyce.  Don’t worry.”  She fished around the cabinets until she found an old plastic shopping bag, then carefully dropped onto her knees to pick up the biggest pieces.  “I’ll sweep it all up.”

Joyce looked grateful, but she seemed reluctant to turn the whole mess over to Max.  “I can help, honey.  My arms still work.”

Max shook her head and gently pushed the wheelchair back a few inches.  “It was our cat, Joyce.  I don’t want you to fall out of your chair and hurt yourself because of a little mess.  We already know how big and tough you are.”  She smiled up encouragingly at the older woman.

Joyce sighed.  “Well, alright.  I always did have a hard time arguing with that face.”  She sat back in the chair, wheeling herself back until the handles clicked on the counter.  

Max cleaned up the rest of the bigger shards of glass, then glanced up at Joyce.  “I would have thought you’d be happy for the help.  I know it must not be easy.”

Joyce shrugged, and her face was a little sad.  “Oh, I know I should have left it to you.  But sometimes… a body just needs to feel like she can contribute once in a while.”  The unspoken end to the thought: especially after a day like yesterday.  Max couldn’t blame her.  They must all have felt so helpless.

Max nodded.  “Say no more, Joyce.  I understand completely.”  She moved on to picking up everything that wasn’t sharp enough to cut; the easy part.  

Joyce simply regarded her for a moment.  “You really do, don’t you?”  It wasn’t really a question.  “I’ve always thought you saw more than most people, you know.  You have an old soul.”

Max blinked.  “An old soul?”

Joyce waved a hand.  “Oh, not literally.  You’re quiet, but you have more maturity and conviction than people twice your age.  Even when you were just a child.”

Max laughed quietly.  “I just offered to pick up a mess my cat made.”  Maturity?  Conviction?  Ridiculous.  She was just a kid.  She’d never for a moment felt like an adult.  Things were always so much bigger than her.

Joyce shrugged with a smile.  “You may not see it, but I do.  Chloe does too, I think.  Oh, I was just rambling.  Don’t mind me, sweetheart.”  She paused for a moment.  “That’s why I’ve never doubted your intentions with my Chloe.”

Max turned bright red.  “What?”

“I was more than a little cautious when you came back into her life.”  Joyce’s voice was soft.  Not accusatory at all.  Simply stating a fact.  “I don’t mean to dredge up the past when it’s gone and buried, but you leaving, without a word… it affected her.  Even I could see that, and she never confided in me the way she did her father.”

Guilt twisted Max’s gut, and she looked away.  She had so many regrets, and that was one of the worst.

Joyce’s eyes were distant.  “But since then…  I’ve seen the way she looks at you.  And more importantly, I’ve seen the way you look at her.”  She smiled.  “It makes me think of William and I, when we were young.”

“I…”  Max didn't know what to say.  It meant a lot to her to hear something like that, and it must not have been an easy thing to get out for Joyce.  Sometimes it was hard to believe that Chloe really could love someone like her.  Hearing that validated from someone on the outside was… nice.  “Thank you, Joyce.  I’ll… try to be worthy of her.”

Joyce winked.  “I have no doubt you will, Max.  You-”

Joyce cut off suddenly as the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house, followed by a terrified yowl, and the cat came shooting down the stairs like a bullet.  “MAX.”

Max blinked.  “Uh… you okay, Chloe?” she called up the stairs.

Chloe raced down the stairs herself in a big loud rush, her boots hitting the ground hard with each step.  “We forgot… It was…”

Max stood up, vague concern written over her face.  “What is it?  Are you alright?”

It took Chloe a moment to calm herself down a bit, but after a moment she looked at Max, her eyes wide.  “ _Presents._  Max, yesterday was Christmas and we never got to do presents!”

“Oh yeah!”  Max glanced from the remainder of the mess on the ground to Chloe and back.  “Give me a sec to sweep this up, and we can do that!”

* * *

 

A few minutes later, Max and Chloe were sitting on the couch, while Joyce sat in her wheelchair across from them.  Joyce had a single, roughly square shaped present sitting in her lap.  Max had something big and flat, along with a gift bag and an envelope, and Chloe had a large paper bag at her feet.

They looked from one to another.  “So,” Chloe said.  “Who goes first?”

“Open mine!”  Max said.  Now that the time had come to share her gifts, she was feeling a lot less confident than she had when she’d made the purchases.  What if things had changed?  What if Chloe was annoyed?  She took a breath and shook the thoughts away.  Of all the things she had to be insecure about, this one was pretty stupid.  Chloe would be happy no matter what.

Chloe nodded, her eyes sparkling.  “Alright.  Hit me!”

“Don't laugh.”  Max handed Chloe the big flat present first, followed by the gift bag.

Chloe grinned and tore into it.

For a breath, Chloe's face was impossible to read and she sat completely still, hands stuck holding tissue paper over her head and face tilted toward the bag’s contents. Then, her cheeks turned splotchy just as her eyes turned watery. Softly, almost like picking up Harrison Ford, she pulled a few paintbrushes from the bag. Even Joyce's eyebrows raised.

It had been years ago, when they were just kids, that Chloe had taken up painting. Sure, it had just been watercolors from the convenience store and computer paper, but even then, she had enjoyed herself. Max had thought that Chloe could have some real skill someday, if she kept practicing.  Ever since William had died, though, Chloe hadn't even looked at a paintbrush.  She’d lost the creative spark.

_Risky move, Caulfield._

_Pff, my middle name is Risk._

“One is a multipurpose brush, two are for acrylic, and two are for watercolor. At least, that's what the tags say.” Max said quietly, breaking the silence. “I couldn't get really fancy ones, but Daniel seemed to think those were good. Kate helped me find the acrylic paint colors.”

Chloe pulled a triad of primary color 4 ounce bottles from the bag and a skinny box of watercolors, not entirely unlike the ones they had as kids. Chloe chewed on her lower lip and put the paints on the floor beside the brushes. She pulled out a pad of acrylic paper and watercolor paper from the bag, which fluttered to the floor as soon as it was no longer weighed down.

“It's uh… Just to get you started again.  If you want.”  A wave of uncertainty shot through her again.

Chloe was silent for a few moments, simply staring down at the art supplies in her hands.  Then, without a word, she turned and gave Max a tight hug, holding her close.  “I haven't thought about painting in so long…”  She was clearly trying to act tough, but she couldn't hide a sniffle.  “I’ll do my best.  I’ll paint you something nice.”

Max just smiled and hugged her back.  “Merry Christmas.”

Joyce let them have their moment, but she looked happy.  She hadn't known what Max’s present was going to be, but she looked pleased.  

When Chloe finally pulled back, her eyes were a little red.  She cleared her throat.  “Uh.  Yeah.  Anyway.”  Her cheeks went pink.  Looking away, she solemnly reached into the paper sack at her feet and pulled out a small wrapped package.  She pushed it at Max, mumbling something that sounded like “Merry Christmas.”

Max took the package carefully and unwrapped it.  Whatever it was, underneath all that packaging, it was small and thin.  Socks, maybe?  Or-  “Chloe, you have got to be kidding me.”

Chloe looked at her with a perfectly straight face.  “What?”

Max held in her hands a pair of thin white panties with a photo of Warren’s face printed front and center on the fabric.

“Chloe…”  Max sighed.  “I've seen a lot of bad things in my life.  A _lot_ of bad things.  But this…?”  She scrunched up her nose, and tried to wrap her brain around what she was looking at.  “This is by far the worst thing I’ve ever had to look at with my own two eyes.”

Chloe blinked innocently twice before breaking into howls of laughter.  “No give backs!  It's yours and it was a gift so you have to wear it!”

Joyce mostly looked dismayed.

Max couldn't take her eyes off of them. Moreover, she couldn’t stop laughing. They were just so… _offensive_.  “Does Warren know you did this?”  

Chloe tried and failed to subdue her cackles.  “Nope, but Brooke does!  I got her to make it for you!  She picked out the picture and everything!”

Max groaned and threw the panties at Chloe’s face.  They landed over one eye, draping themselves over her head.  Chloe pulled it off and started giggling again.  “My present was so _heartfelt_ and _meaningful_ , and yours was…”  She was at a loss for words.  “Oh my god??”  It had been so long that she'd almost forgotten how, when they were kids, Chloe would start off every Christmas with some kind of horrendous gag gift.  In retrospect, she shouldn't have been surprised.

Joyce sighed.  “Chloe…”  There was real disappointment in her voice.

Chloe kept laughing for nearly a full minute before she was able to get herself back under control.  “Okay, okay, I'm good.  I’m okay.”  She leaned in and planted a kiss on Max’s playfully scowling cheek.  “Don't worry, I've got real presents.  Maybe not as um, good as yours, but…”  She leaned down to rummage through the bag again.

“I don't know what to do with you,” Max said with exasperation, rolling her eyes.  “You're so lucky I love you.”

Harrison Ford crept back into view from wherever she’d been hiding after all the ruckus earlier.  She looked around cautiously for a few moments, then threw herself into the pile of discarded wrapping paper with a loud crackling sound.  She started rolling around in the trash, purring and batting at shreds of brightly colored paper.

Chloe’s laughter settled down into a grin.  “I love you too.  If I didn't, you wouldn't get my A-game like this.”  She pulled out a small, flat present and passed it to Max.  “Here’s part one.”

Max tore off the wrapping, to discover a CD by The Barr Brothers, a group she’d never heard of before.  

Before she could really react, Chloe jumped in.  “I know it's kinda… quaint to have an actual CD in this day and age, but I thought it would appeal to you.”  She started talking faster, as if nervously trying to justify herself.  “And I found the closest record store in the area, and I told them what kind of hipster nerd shit you like, and they said that these guys would be right up your-”

Max snorted.  “Come here, you dork.  I love it.”  She leaned over and gently bumped the side of Chloe’s head with her own head.

Chloe sputtered to a halt, then turned to kiss Max on the cheek.  Max intercepted the kiss with her lips, which Chloe did not complain about at all.

It took Max a moment to remember that Joyce was in fact still there, and she broke off the kiss suddenly, her cheeks beet red.  

Joyce, for her part, was simply looking at the two of them with a sad, wistful smile on her face. She raised her hands in a warding gesture.  “Don't mind me.  Y'all are young and in love.”

Max cleared her throat, still embarrassed.  

Chloe wasn't hiding it much better than Max was.  She looked away and dug around in the bag again. “God, mom, stop staring at us.  You're creepin’ me out.”

Her mother just sighed.  Max punched Chloe in the arm.

“Ow!  Hey, what was that-”

Max glared.

Chloe wilted.  “Sorry, mom.”

Joyce waved a hand dismissively.

After a moment of silence that was not at all awkward, Chloe pulled out another small wrapped box and pressed it into Max’s hands.  “And here's part two.” She looked away.

Max leaned in to kiss her cheek again before unwrapping the present.  “Film!”

Chloe nodded and glanced back.  “I know you're always complaining how expensive film is for that camera, so I got you a couple boxes.  I hope it's the right kind.  I sorta went through your stuff to figure out the right brand?  Oops?”  She tried to look innocent.

Max sighed.  “You could have tried _asking_.”

“But then you would have known!” Chloe protested.  “It's no fun if it's not a surprise!”

Max would have been genuinely upset with anyone other than Chloe who might have gone through her stuff - especially after her wall had been defaced by a certain Mr. Prescott.  As it was, though, she was just a weird mix of irritated and amused.  “Alright, alright.  You get a pass this time.”  She jabbed a finger at Chloe’s nose.  “But only because you're so cute,” she said seriously.

Chloe put her hands up as if at gunpoint.  “Yes ma’am.”

Joyce chuckled.

“Oh!”  Max exclaimed.  “That reminds me!”  She grabbed the envelope sitting in her lap and presented it to Joyce.  “This is for you.  It's not much, but it's from both of us.  Kind of as a thank you for everything you've done for us.”

Joyce’s brow furrowed, but she reached out and gently took the envelope.  She started picking at the flap with one of her nails.  “You didn't need to get me anything.  I’m really just happy to-”  Her eyes widened, and her words cut off suddenly.  “How… How much is this?”

Chloe cleared her throat.  “It's 300 dollars.  We know there hasn't been much spare cash lately, and that you had to dip into savings, and we thought…”

“We thought you could start up that Paris fund again,” Max finished quietly.  “You've done so much for us.  You deserve to be able to go.  It's not fair that the storm took so much from you when you've been so generous.”

Joyce simply stated into the envelope, her eyes shining.  For maybe the first time Max had ever seen her, she was at a loss for words.

It was an affecting sight.  Her own heart swelled.  Not with pride or anything like that.  Joyce deserved so much better, and it was so good to see her understand a little of that.

They let Joyce have a moment to collect herself.  When she did, she looked more than a little embarrassed as she sniffed.  “Where did y'all get the money for this…?”

Max opened her mouth to give a serious answer, but Chloe beat her there.  “Drugs.”

Max choked and Chloe grinned, but Joyce mostly looked thoughtful.  “...Nah,” she said after a moment.

Chloe blinked.  “Nah?”

Joyce nodded.  “I've known you since you were a baby, and you have _terrible_ business sense.  No way you go out and make that much of a profit.”

Max snorted again, and raised a hand to cover her laughter.  

Chloe looked between her mother and Max, her eyes wide.  “Mooom!”

Joyce looked proud of herself.  After a moment, though, her face softened.  “But… Thank you, girls.  This means… so much more than I think you know.  It's been… hard.  It'll be good to have something to look forward to, once I'm back to normal.”

No one knew if Joyce _would_ ever be back to normal, but Max decided that for this, it didn't matter.  Joyce deserved Paris whether she could walk or not.

Max nodded.  “You're welcome, Joyce.  And thank _you._ You didn't need to take me in, or to approve of me and Chloe, but you did.  You've been the best.”  She grinned.  “You really are Supermom.”


	14. My Type

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Good to see you. You're all beautiful.
> 
> The next chapter will be posted on March 12th!

Joyce never asked where the money really came from. Max was more than one hundred percent sure she didn’t want to know.

* * *

 

_Several days before, both Max and Chloe had been laying around together, surfing some social media apps and reading intermittently, when Chloe jumped up out of the bed, snatching out the headphones they shared._

_“Money, Max! Money for mom!”_

_Max remembered feeling slightly queasy. They’d forgotten until then. “How are we going to get a couple hundred dollars in a few days?”_

_Chloe stood there a minute, chewing her nails and the edges of her fingers like she did when she was nervous. Her eyebrows were so close together in thought, you could have called her Count Olaf. Suddenly, she clapped and stamped her foot in excitement. She gestured wildly at Max, and somehow managed to pull her shirt up a little in her flailing. She flailed sometimes when she was excited. Max thought it was super cute._

_“I have an idea!” Her eyes sparkled._

_“Which is?” Max didn’t know if she wanted to know._

_She didn’t._

_“We- No, I can’t tell you.”_

_“Then what are we going to do?”_

_“No.” Chloe ran a hand through her faded hair. “No, I’ll only tell you if it works.” Max rolled her eyes as Chloe clapped again and pulled on a jacket and some shoes. “I gotta go to my truck for a while. Have you seen a screwdriver around here somewhere?”_

* * *

 

Max and Chloe lay in bed together that night after opening presents, playing with the kitten using a stick, some string, and a ball of paper.

Chloe’s phone vibrated. She’d been on it off and on throughout the evening, which was odd for her. She was one of those people that could never remember to text anyone back. Unless it was Max on the other end, apparently. Tonight, though, she’d been in a constant stream of conversation with… someone. Max wanted to ask but didn’t want to be intrusive. It was a little out of character, after all.

Chloe rolled to face Max, face still buried in her phone while she tapped away at the screen. “Hey,” she said distractedly.

“Yeah?” Max pulled the kitten up onto her stomach and rubbed down her back, eliciting loud purrs from the cat.

“So I’m having a bit of trouble.” She still didn’t look away from her screen.

Max’s stomach twisted in a way, but she took a breath before her head started pounding in anxiety. “What kind of trouble?” The next words slipped out thoughtlessly. “Is someone bothering you?”

Chloe laughed for a second and dropped her phone onto the bed. She reached a hand out to Max’s face and gently rubbed Max’s cheek with her thumb. “Calm down, cream puff. You’re gonna leak filling.”

Max reached up to touch Chloe’s hand, but Chloe caught Max’s and kissed it… a little too passionately for a hand kiss. Max felt her cheeks betraying her wishes to seem calm, cool, and collected.

Chloe didn’t take her lips far from Max’s hand before speaking. “I might need help setting up that date with Kate and the Killer Bee.”

Max snatched her hand back appalled but still blushing. She exaggerated her horror and shock to the point even she almost laughed at herself. “You’re trying to _seduce_ _me_ in order to help you with a problem you made yourself??? I never would have expected such a dirty trick!”  She pressed a hand to her chest. “Alas! Betrayed by my own lover!”

Chloe stuck her tongue out, but a tiny bit of pink touched her own cheeks. So she _did_ feel shame after all. Something stirred in Max’s stomach. The closest thing she could place to the feeling was longing. She didn't want Chloe to pull away.

* * *

 

_Chloe came back, grey sheen on her hands and a smudge on her cheek. A spot on the side of her hand was bleeding, but the grin on her face could have ignited the whole world. Max wanted to kiss her then. The rest of her body wanted in on that action, too, but the nervousness chased it away as it so often did._

_“Chloe, what did you do?” She tried to make her tone serious or chastising but failed miserably._

_“I called Frank.”_

_“Oh my god, Chloe. What did you do???”_

* * *

 

Max pulled Chloe's hand back and held it against her chest. Chloe didn't hesitate to oblige.

“Listen, I mean it though. I don't know what you plan to do, but Victoria seemed pretty nervous about the setup.” Max shrugged and absentmindedly rubbed Chloe's knuckles with her thumb. She smiled thoughtfully for a second. “I wouldn't call it a date to Vic.”

“Too late. Killer V was pissed. Or embarrassed. I couldn't tell.” She smiled that pointy smile she did when she was intentionally being an asshole.

Max's heart fluttered. _Stop being stupid,_ she thought to herself.

Another part of herself chimed in. _Come on, man. You almost died yesterday. You can feel these feelings. It's normal. Right?_

Chloe seemed to catch on to Max's nervousness and pulled away. “I was thinking, Max. You just had a near death experience and all,” Max could tell Chloe was trying to joke, but her eyes showed the lasting fear. “but shouldn't you take some pictures soon for the prom queen?”

Max, who had propped herself halfway on her elbow, flopped back onto the bed with a groan. The sudden movement really made her head scream. _Ow._ “Ah, shit. I completely forgot about pictures.”

Chloe shrugged a shoulder, an impressive feat for someone laying on their side. “I don't think Victoria cares if you've been preoccupied.” She looked over at Max biting her lip. “Hey, don't worry. We can go take pictures wherever you want whenever you want.” Her eyes went to the clock on the makeshift nightstand. “Except now because it's like ten o'clock, and I am tired.”

The kitten rolled around between the two before yowling then curling into a ball. Chloe gave the little thing a few scratches behind the ears with a small smile. “You know, I never thought I'd have another cat after Bongo died.”

Max didn't exactly know how to react other than a sad smile.

“I'm glad for this little bundle of love. My cat child. Cat child number two.”

“You're delirious.  Go to bed.” Max reached to Chloe, just to let their skin touch. She hadn't noticed how much she felt like she needed to touch and be touched until… now, it seemed.

“I am… very tired.” Chloe admitted, scooping up the sleeping kitten and nestling her in a makeshift bed.

“What's keeping you from sleeping?  Besides me and the cat.” She laughed a little until she saw Chloe's dark expression.

“I'm afraid you won't be here when I wake up.” Her voice was flat, but her eyes told the whole story. Max knew why she was afraid. One thing gone wrong could leave Chloe on her own and Max in the ground. It was a sobering thought.

“I'll still be here, Chlo. I promise.” She found and squeezed Chloe's hand. “I'm not going anywhere.”

A small wave of relief washed over the tired Chloe. “Local punk teen needs sleep.” She smiled a little. “Uh. Max?”

“What is it?”

“Uh… this isn't very punk, so you can't tell anyone.”

Max snorted but nodded. “Okay?”

“Can… can you hold me tonight? Just until I fall asleep or something…”

Max felt her heart skip a beat. Chloe had never asked that before. She'd always been the one to hold Max, given their height difference and how Max usually was the one screaming in the night. “Yeah, of course.”

Chloe rolled onto her other side, facing away from Max and mumbled a quiet thanks.

Max scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Chloe's slim waist and felt her face get hot. Had Chloe always been so thin? So lean? Muscular? Max swallowed. “Any time, Chloe. Always.”

* * *

 

_The next day, Chloe came in with an envelope of neat twenties._

_“Please tell me you didn’t rob a bank, Chloe.” Max only sounded like she was halfway kidding because she was, indeed, only halfway kidding._

_“Of course not. Do you really think I’m organized enough to plan a heist?” She tossed the envelope onto the cluttered desk, which housed the laptop they often shared.  “I’m more the… get-drunk-and-hold-up-a-gas-station type.”_

_Max rolled her eyes and reached out for Chloe. Chloe took Max’s hand and flopped onto the bed. “You’re a klutz, but everyone has dumb luck sometimes.”_

_“Hey, don’t call me a dumb! I will have you know I am a smart.” Chloe crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. “Do you want to know or not?”_

_“Lay it on me. I have to make up a story if the cops come looking. Then again, if you don’t tell me, I won’t go to prison with you.  Maybe I don't want to be an accessory after the fact.”_

_Chloe jokingly punched Max’s arm. “Whatever, nerd. I would protect you in prison.”_

_“You would sell me out for exactly one corn chip.”_

_They both laughed for a second before Chloe jumped back up and counted the money. She nodded like she was satisfied. “I know Frank wouldn’t stiff me after we said we were cool, but I like to be thorough. Basically, my dear Max, I sold David’s gun. I filed off the serial number and gouged the barrel.” She smiled like the cheshire cat and propped herself triumphantly onto the ledge of the desk._

_“Chloe, oh my god.” Max was exasperated - irritated even - but she was more impressed than anything. She wouldn’t have thought of that. “Isn’t that a little risky?”_

_“Probably, but mom deserves something good. Frank said he’d help out and finish what I started. He bitched about it though.” She rolled her eyes and started pulling off her shirt. She wasn’t nearly as self conscious as Max in that respect. She quickly changed into pajamas and crawled into bed. “Put on your jammies, and come snuggle me. I desire snuggles.”_

_“You’re such an ass.”_

_“Yeah, but you love me.”_

_“I do.”_

* * *

 

The next morning, Max found herself alone in the room she shared with Chloe. Nausea and anxiety washed over her in those first moments of disoriented consciousness.  What was the date?  Had she rewound to end up back at that morning? Would she have to deal with the fight all over again? The hospital?  Was she stuck in a loop of her own making?

A few chirps drew her frantic breaths back down to a manageable level. Chirps. Cat. It was the twenty-seventh. She hadn’t fucked up. Chloe was just… somewhere else. The resemblance to that morning was nothing more than a coincidence.  She sat up, a dull ache rising in her temples. She ran a hand through her hair and reached down to the floor where the kitten stretched.

“Hey, sweet baby.” She baby talked the cat. She wouldn't even think of talking that way to an actual baby, but talking to a kitten in an overly saccharine tone wouldn't hurt anyone. “What's got it?” She ran a finger down Harrison Ford’s bony spine.

Out of the corner of her eye, a flash, the click-snap-whir of an instant film camera. _Her_ instant film camera. The distinct _Wobble-Wobble_ of film being shaken out made her smile and look over at Chloe.

“Rise and shine, Caulfield. Picture time.” Chloe tossed the picture to Max, who let it continue developing. “You're so fucking cute with that cat. How could I resist taking such a great picture?”

“Shut up and come kiss me.” Max rolled onto her back and made grabby hands.

“Hell no, man. You'll seduce me, and we’ll never get anything done.” Chloe set the camera on the desk and pulled on the jacket thrown over the chair.

Max dropped her arms and huffed. “Would seducing you be a _bad_ thing?”

Chloe made a strangled noise between a laugh and a sigh, which made Max sit straight up.

“Chloe, are you o-”

Chloe's face turned splotchy red and she turned around away from Max. “Just put your clothes on. I'll wait with the cat.”

She picked up Harrison Ford, who had walked over to battle with Chloe's shoelaces. With an unsure smile, she glanced at Max and walked out.

Max groaned. She would rather stay at home and cuddle with Chloe than do Responsible Things. It seemed like they needed to talk, too, since Chloe was acting so strange. With a little more effort than usual, she managed to drag herself out of bed and gather a few clothes before heading out to the bathroom. Getting ready felt impossibly slow, every task dragging on forever. She pulled through her still wet hair with a brush and pulled on a spare beanie from Chloe's assortment of Mostly Clean and scattered laundry. She liked stealing Chloe's clothes sometimes.

“A beanie for my ween-” she paused. “That doesn't sound right.”

Chloe leaned against the doorway and snorted. When had she gotten there? “Were you going to say ‘beanie for my weenie’?”

“I _tried_ , okay?” Max rolled her eyes and messed around with her hair a few more times. “Sorry I took so long.”

Chloe gave her an incredulous look. “You've been in here ten whole minutes, dude.”

Cold sweat beaded on Max's lower back. She was sure it had been longer… But since she had returned to the Price home from the hospital, ordinary things seemed to go by at odd paces. She’d left a cup of hot chocolate sitting to cool for almost an hour before picking it up, thinking it had been only a few minutes.

_“Everyone does that_ ,” Chloe had said.

It wasn't just an isolated instance, though… _To make it science, I have to write it down,_ she thought, echoing something she'd heard Warren say more than once. She considered it a moment while shuffling her camera into her bag. _Nah, science sucks. Investing in some sort of magical time keeping device, though…_

She smiled to herself. “Hey, Chloe, while we're out, can we get me a watch?”

Chloe rattled a granola bar wrapper and tore off a hunk with her teeth, chewing thoughtfully for a minute before asking with a still full mouth, “Why do you need a watch? You have a phone.” She swallowed the chunky chocolate chip granola bar. “Get with the 21st century, Max.”

Max felt her face grimace on its own, flushing horribly an instant later. “I'm having some trouble keeping time is all. I think all that…” She couldn't even think about saying the damn word “rewind” much less any gerunds, adverbs, nouns, or other garbage sentence pieces. What? She was interested in photography, not rhetoric. Max swallowed and tried again. “I think what happened the other day messed with my internal clock, and a watch is always there. If all I have is my phone, I forget to check. Besides, does anyone actually ever _remember_ the time when they look at their phone?”

With wide eyes, Chloe, who had taken another bite of her breakfast, swallowed slowly and cleared her throat. “Shit, dude, I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that.”

Max bumped Chloe's shoulder lightly. “Nah, it's fine. Let's go take some pictures before the pit viper finds out I've been slacking off.”

* * *

 

The morning out was less eventful than even Max might have hoped. The streets were relatively quiet, and the snow lay a powdery hush over Arcadia Bay. The snow made the skeletal remains of buildings and charred hulls look more like charcoal drawings than actual remnants of The Storm. Chloe drove around until Max would point out a scene to capture and sat patiently in the car or stood by quietly until Max was done. Memories rose up frequently and caused the duo to need breaks more often than not. The stress started creeping in two hours into the endeavor. Chloe tapped viciously on her steering wheel to an off time beat. Max chewed on her fingers and fingernails.

Close to noon, Max leaned over to take a picture of a particularly interesting field littered by untouched debris. Her breath came in shaky, pained gasps - the cold settling into her lungs and making her cough. Her mind raced as she tried to capture the profundity of the scene, but her hands shook too bad to take a decent photo. She wasn’t sure if that was from the anxiety or the cold. Gloveless fingers turned blue in the wind. She was wasting film. She could just… rewind until she took a decent picture….

Chloe’s voice interrupted the destructive train of thought. “Hey, Max, do you wanna fuck?”

Max nearly dropped her camera. “ _What?_ ” Her numb face suddenly could have boiled the snowflakes that touched it. She looked over at Chloe who looked away and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets.  “Chloe, what the fuck.”

“I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about it for a little while since, you know, we haven’t exactly done anything like that.” Max could tell Chloe was trying to look and sound cool, but she could hear the embarrassment in the edges of her voice.

Max straightened and put her camera in her bag, pursing her lips and trying to catch Chloe as off guard as she had been. “I mean, right here? It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?”

Chloe’s face finally cracked into a shy smile with a creeping pink blush rising from her neck up. “No, I just…” She took a breath and held out her hand, still not looking Max in the eye. “Come on, you’re freezing. Let’s get back in the truck.”

“Are you going to try to get in my pants? Is this a seduction tactic?” Max placed her hand on her chest in feigned surprise.

“If it would work, yeah, but you’re a tough egg to crack.” Chloe grabbed Max’s other hand and pulled her toward the still running truck.

They climbed in silently, embarrassment still laying on them like a great, itchy, wool blanket. They rode down the road with the heat cranked on high, but their faces could have heated the truck on their own.

“Chloe, seriously, are you okay?” A mild paranoia crept into Max’s mind. Embarrassment bled into concern and became consumed by it. “That’s really… Sudden? We haven’t really…”

Chloe shrugged and leaned her head on one arm, the other on the wheel. “Yeah, we haven’t talked about it.” She let the words hang in the air for a minute. “You almost died, Max. I don’t… I had a lot of time to think when I was in the hospital. I might have talked to Kate about it a little.” She leaned her head on the window and adjusted her hair. “She thought that I should talk to you about it. She, uh, told me I should talk to you about it sooner than later. Jesus, she sent me a message this morning to see if I talked to you about it yet.”

Max looked out the passenger window and tried to think of something to say. “So you asked Kate if you should ‘fuck’ me?”

Chloe swerved a little. “Hell no, man. Can you imagine tiny little Kate if I said that? She would fucking die. She would probably clutch her chest, utter a ‘my word,’ and fucking expire right there.” Chloe shook her head again and wiped her nose on her arm - a nervous habit. “No, I realized how much I don’t… how much we don’t touch like that. How we get all tangled together and... “ She blushed and didn’t finish. “How much I want to be with you, but I’ve been so afraid of it? I didn’t realize how much I _needed_ you until I thought I lost you.”

Max chewed on a fingernail and felt her stomach turn queasy with butterflies. “I… I thought it was just me, honestly. I felt really stupid for feeling like I needed you so bad. I mean, we could get… um, riled up, I guess, but I didn’t ever know if I wanted to go through with it.” She didn’t speak for another minute. “I still can’t believe you talked to Kate about this.”

Chloe snorted. “I talk to Kate about a lot of things, Max - not before we talked to her about the things that… happened, but ever since then, I think we’re friends. The hospital was a lot easier with her there than if she hadn’t been, and besides, I can’t shut up so I’m going to talk to whoever is nearby. It just helped to be… friends with her. I got to talk about some things that I hadn’t really talked about before. Stuff like this.”

Max felt her face go even more red than before. “I haven’t exactly thought about this stuff. I’ve been, uh, a little busy.”

Chloe laughed and played with a loose strand of her faded blue hair. “It’s okay. I think I understand at _least_ a little bit.”

A low, insistent buzz came from the cupholder where Chloe’s phone stayed while driving. Chloe’s light, nervous mood turned irritated entirely too fast. “I _told_ her I would text her when I got a minute, GOD.”

Max felt herself press into the seat. Her head started throbbing near her temples. “Uh… Should you… get that?”

“ _Yes._ ” Chloe huffed and groaned, aggressively picked up her phone, and slid the green button to answer. She grumbled into the phone. “ _What_?”

Max could hear a high pitched voice on the other end despite the woofing heater and the engine clatter.

_“Where are you?”_

Chloe made the most anime “tch” noise possible. “I’m _driving_. Listen, I told you I would text you whenever we get settled down.”

_“I’m_ **_not_ ** _meeting you in that greasy spoon where your mom works.”_

“You meet us there in thirty minutes, or I won’t help you.” Chloe’s voice turned flat and cold. “You asked me for help, and I’m _helping_.”

_“On_ **_your_ ** _terms.”_

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, on my terms. When else will I get to put a pretty girl like you under my thumb?”

_“You have Caulfield, so probably every day.”_

“Vic, that was the gayest thing you could have possibly said. Meet me in thirty at the Whales.” Chloe hung up without another word, her face splotchy red. “Could you hear that?”

“Every word.” Max’s voice came out entirely more smug than she intended.

Chloe wiped her face with her hand. “Get ready. We’re bringing the wasp nest into our home.”

“You are _so_ cryptic.” Max rolled her eyes, but a deep sense of longing came back from their interrupted conversation. She wanted to talk more but didn’t feel like talking about the earlier material before meeting anyone wouldn’t be appropriate. They were _definitely_ going to come back to that. Just… another day.

 


End file.
